


It's All Just Temporary with a Bit of Necromancy

by TLC_1894



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Canon Divergence - Post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Creature Inheritance, Dark Harry, Dark Magic, Dark Trio, Elder Wand (Harry Potter), F/F, F/M, Harry and Voldemort Form an Alliance, Harry is Lord Black, Harry is Lord Potter, Invisibility Cloak (Harry Potter), M/M, Magical Artifacts, Magical Inheritance, Magical Tattoos, Master of Death Harry Potter, Morally Grey Harry Potter, Necromancer Harry Potter, Necromancy, Order of the Phoenix Bashing (Harry Potter), Pureblood Politics (Harry Potter), Resurrection Stone, Sane Tom Riddle, Sane Voldemort (Harry Potter), Slow Burn, The Deathly Hallows, The Golden Trio Era (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2020-05-15 13:07:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 92,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19296382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TLC_1894/pseuds/TLC_1894
Summary: Harry gets his magical inheritance as a Necromancer on his 16th birthday, the first in centuries. Unsure of his future or even who to trust after the Light shuns him, Harry turns to the Dark, the only other side that can assist him in seeking his revenge. However, it's all just temporary. It's just an alliance until his goals are met and then that's it. Just temporary...right?Slight Dumbledore and some Order member bashing. Sane Voldemort but Horcruxes do exist. A Harry/Voldemort but won't be for a bit anyway since Harry isn’t of age yet. Not really graphic in deaths at least not yet. If that changes the rating will change.





	1. Happy Birthday to Me

**Author's Note:**

> Everything is J.K. Rowlings. I only claim the plot. Everything else is hers, all the characters and the magic, all of it. Please let me know what you think though, I encourage feedback of all kinds, just be nice about it!
> 
> This is the first time I'm posting on AO3, usually, I do fanfic.net, which this story is also on there. But I'm giving this site a try as well. 
> 
> So this is going to be a really different story than anything I've ever done before. For one, I am breaking away from the books. Everything is the same until after the 5th that is when everything changes. But I'm going to be working with the Death Eater characters now which is new and I'm excited and nervous, admittedly. Voldemort will be central to all of this but he will be sane. The Horcruxes will be a thing but since the diary, the ring, and Harry's piece (this will be explained in future chapters) have all been destroyed he is much saner. 
> 
> Now, again, this is something different. Harry won't be "Dark" exactly, he is more of a dark Grey. The only bashing will really be against Dumbledore and some of the Order members, but not all of them. If you have any suggestions please message me. Now, I am really torn on what to do about Severus Snape: loyal Order member/Dumbledore follower or loyal to the Dark and just playing spy? And if he is Dark loyalist what should he and Harry's relationship become? I'm leaning towards just distantly cordial but I'd like to hear your thoughts and opinions and I might be swayed to a more amicable relationship.
> 
> Also, fun note, the chapter titles are all quotes pulled from the story. I thought that could be a kind of fun thing to try.
> 
> I am even toying with the idea of it being a Harry/Voldemort pairing. I've been reading it a lot and I might try my hand at it. Nothing for right now though, pairings won't be for a while. If you are super against a Harry/Voldemort pairing I'm up for other considerations and we can do a vote.  
> Voldemort. Draco Malfoy. Daphne Greengrass. Or just another Death Eater. Let me know!
> 
> Now, I know this might not be everyone's cup of tea, it is really kind of an experiment of sorts for me. So please, let me know what you think but keep it constructive and polite. If you don't like it, tell me why. I might agree! If not well, so sorry but read something else.

**Happy Birthday to Me**

The summer night was sweltering. There was no breeze coming through the open window and Harry was drenched, the threadbare covers were already in a pile on the floor with his clothes. This summer had been the worst than all of the others. Sirius was dead. The image of him falling through the Veil played on repeat. Growling in frustration, Harry tossed around on the lump of a mattress that he had.

Sadly, Sirius’s death wasn’t the worst thing in Harry’s life at the moment.

No, it was the itching under his skin and the fever that had been building for the past two weeks. The itch had been progressively getting worse ever since the summer started. On top of the itch and the fever, had been the mood swings. They had been bad during the school year but Harry had assumed that was due to Voldemort. Now he wasn’t so sure. This felt different. Like something was burning within him but not at all like how the possession had felt.  

He had tried contacting Dumbledore during the beginning weeks of the summer but each of his letters went ignored. So now, he had given up on help from the Headmaster.

Harry gasped out as his muscles seized for about a minute, the longest yet. The seizing had only started about three days ago. Thankfully the Dursleys had been avoiding him for the past week once his condition got to the point where he could hardly walk properly. Which was probably for the best, plus for the past month it seemed that his touch was only detrimental to the garden. It was like the plants just whithered if he just looked at them long enough which was absurd. However, with no other explanation, his aunt had made it so he only did the indoor chores before locking him in his room completely. His aunt or Dudley would push a pitcher of water and some bread through the flap in the door every morning, but that was it. It was still something. Harry doubted he would have been able to stomach much else anyway. He supposed he should be grateful for the small kindnesses of his aunt and cousin which was another absurd thought.

Tears pricked his eyes as Harry desperately tried to figure out what was happening to him. Hedwig watched from her cage, concern in her yellow eyes as she watched him writhe on the old mattress. The worst was it was his birthday tomorrow and he doubted he’d feel better by then and the Order hadn’t made a single attempt at contacting him the whole summer. Rage flared at the reminder of how he had been shut away, it joined the heat already building within him.

Clawing at his skin to try and get the itch and the burn to release, Harry cried out as the worst pain gripped his bones and shredded his muscles, it was like the Cruciatous Curse filled with fire. Just as Harry thought he was about to pass out from the pain, an icy chill crept through his veins infusing his bones with icy splinters. Shivering uncontrollably as the inside of his body felt like it was freezing over while his skin still felt like flames danced across it. Harry whimpered as his body felt like it was fighting itself. He gasped out as he felt frozen tendrils encircle his pounding heart and pierce his scar. Was this it? He had faced Voldemort and survived the Dursleys only to succumb to death by some unseen force?

His mind was losing its grip on reality as the pain, the heat, and the cold brought him to a breaking point. He distantly heard his clock chiming the stroke of midnight before he slipped into the dark embrace of unconsciousness.

***

Blinking his eyes open, Harry squinted at the bright light streaming through the open window. It took him a moment to orient himself. He knew that he was still at Privet Drive but he wasn’t in pain. In fact, his body felt better than it had years, his whole life even. His head felt lighter too like an unknown weight had been lifted. Which didn’t make sense... The last thing he remembered was firey and icy pain. Slowly he sat up. Nope, still no pain. Frowning in confusion, he stumbled off the bed and attempted standing. He hadn’t been able to stand in a couple of days. No dizziness, no pain, but he did feel gross with the sweat of a couple of days clinging to his skin and the stench that came with it.

Still trying to figure out what was happening, Harry stumbled to the door and tried the handle, luckily it was unlocked. His Uncle had probably thought him too weak to try to leave and so hadn’t bothered locking it. Peaking out his head he saw the hall empty but could hear the muffled sound of voices downstairs, his relatives must be having breakfast.

Taking advantage of the solitude, he slipped on some boxers and darted into the hallway bathroom and turned on the shower. As the water heated up, he glanced into the mirror. He looked the same. Black hair in all directions, however, the days of sweat seemed to be keeping the mess somewhat contained. The scar that had set him apart his whole life was still red but it didn’t look as angry as it had in the recent months. With his eyes he traced the scar arching across his forehead with small tendrils wisping out but luckily not spreading across his entire forehead, with the longest end just brushing the start of his eyebrow. His green eyes still sparkled bright and vivid. It was staring at his eyes that Harry gave a start. He didn’t have his glasses on and yet he could see perfectly. _How strange!_ But he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Sure the glasses had given him another connection to his dad but they got in the way more than anything.

_Happy Birthday to me,_ he thought pleasantly.

Pleased at the improved eyesight, Harry put off worrying about _how_ for the moment and tried checking for any other changes. His skin was still just as dark as usual during the summer months, nothing unusual, his darker pigmented skin was apparently another gift from his fathers' side of the family. His muscles still toned from the years of Quidditch playing, even if he had been banned this season, traversing the stairs of Hogwarts still kept him in moderate shape. Satisfied that nothing else seemed different, Harry turned to hop in the shower when something caught his eye. Turning back to face the mirror, he frowned and then looked down at his chest. _There,_  right above where his heart, was a symbol. He couldn’t discern what the shape was from his angle looking down. But in the mirror it looked like a triangle with a small circle inside of it with a line dividing the triangle and small circle in half, and then from each triangle point was a small spiral jutting out and joining together to form a larger circle over the whole triangle and atop the large circle looked like what could pass as a simple crown. The whole thing wasn’t any bigger than the palm of his hand. He traced it with the tip of his finger and didn’t feel anything. Like the image was a tattoo and had always been apart of his skin.

Unease flickered in his stomach and his mouth went dry. _What had happened last night? What was going on?_ He really needed to write to Hermione. She might know what the symbol meant. He knew that she hadn’t been sending letters but hoped that the hint of a mystery would intrigue her enough to respond to him. Just the thought that there needed to be an academic question posed for his best friend to talk to him left a sour taste in his mouth but before the anger could get too overwhelming, he got in the shower. Hoping the hot water would help his mind. He was after all thrilled that he was able to get out of bed no longer in pain. And he was sixteen today. Another reason to celebrate, he had survived another year. And in return had gotten corrected eyesight and some weird tattoo. It could be worse, he consoled himself.

Determined to look on the positive side of things since he was feeling so much better than he could ever remember, Harry took to scrubbing his skin and washing his hair with renewed vigor. It was actually working until a pounding on the bathroom door brought him back to reality.

“BOY! Stop wasting all of our water! Get out of there right now! You think you can just lay about in your room for weeks without doing any of your chores and then use up the water! Get out here boy.”

Growling a little at the sound of his Uncles’ voice, Harry did turn off the water and step out of the shower, grabbing a towel. His uncle continued to pound on the door and Harry was surprised that it wasn’t splintering yet. Hurrying in drying himself off, Harry slipped on his boxers again, held the towel over his shoulder, and pulled the bathroom door open.

His uncle sneered at him, grabbing his arm and yanking him out of the room. Harry dropped the towel on the floor in the process and he gritted his teeth as he was thrown into the wall. “Listen here, you ungrateful freak!” His uncle began pressing his forearm across Harry’s chest and pushing him harder into the wall. It was at this moment that his uncle noticed the mark on his chest. “A tattoo! Is that what you’ve been doing? Sneaking out and getting tattoos? Disregarding the kindness of your aunt and I and going to get all marked up? I’ll show you, you freak! I’ll show you boy what it means to pull one over on us.”

At this point, Harry tuned his Uncle out as a cold rage started to build within his gut and spread through his blood. He could feel it bubbling and building. It was unlike anything he had felt before but it was giving him a heady feeling. One that Harry wouldn’t normally associate with rage. His skin prickled at the contact from his Uncle and as if some other force was controlling his body, Harry brought his hands up and gripped his Uncle’s throat.

Harry felt strangely calm as he felt this icy fire sensation dance across his skin and down to the fingertips currently encircling his Uncles’ fat neck. He was numb to all outside stimulus, detached from what was happening; the power high acting as a screen to filter how he processed his actions and emotions. All Harry could see was his Uncles’ hideous face as it slowly started turning grey and the power high he was feeling in the process.

A shrill piercing scream ripped through the air and a solid body knocked into him. Blinking out of his dazed high, Harry glanced up from his position on the floor. Dudley had knocked him over, his cousins’ eyes wide with fear and his Aunt was still shrieking. His Uncle was a grey corpse, all life drained out of him and slumped in a heap on the floor.

Harry stared wide-eyed at the man. _Had he done that?_ Harry couldn’t even fully remember what he had done but he remembered that feeling. The icy fire and power he had felt. All he remembered was the hatred he felt towards his Uncle and was finding it difficult to find remorse over his apparent murder. Suddenly there were people charging up the stairs, Harry was still slow to react trying to figure out what had just happened and barely registered Moody’s peg leg coming into view when a red light hit him in the chest sending him into darkness.    



	2. What is Happening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is captured and his friends are trying to figure out what is happening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything is J.K. Rowlings. I only claim the plot. Everything else is hers, all the characters and the magic, all of it. Please let me know what you think though, I encourage feedback of all kinds, just be nice about it!
> 
> Again let me know thoughts on what to do about Severus Snape.   
> Also, let me know thoughts on pairings. Personally, I am leaning towards a Harry/Voldemort but I'm open to other thoughts! Leave reviews but don't be rude about it.

**What is Happening?**

 

Groaning, Harry opened his eyes. He was stiff and achy.  _ What the hell had happened? _ Everything was so fuzzy in his head. He remembered being in a fevered, itchy, pain for the past few weeks and then suddenly it was all great.  _ Was the tattoo real? And then...wait did his Uncle die? Wait...did he kill his Uncle?  _ He groaned again and blinked his eyes to clear them a bit. After a few blinks, he was able to see clearly again, once again pleased that he didn’t need glasses anymore. 

Though once he took in the sight of where he was, Harry began wishing he couldn’t see after all. It was like he was in some kind of cage or dungeon or prison or a combination. There were three walls of solid stone that looked dark and damp and then the fourth wall was comprised of prison bars. There was a torch near where the bars met with the stone wall but Harry could tell from where he sat that the torch would be just out of reach. Speaking of sat, Harry realized it wasn’t exactly sitting so much as bound and tied to a chair. 

Harry gave an experimental tug and winced as the rope strands dug deeper into his wrists. He was still only in the boxers he had worn out of the bathroom and goosebumps were appearing on his skin from the dank and chill air.  _ Where was he?  _ He couldn’t see anyone, which didn’t mean there wasn’t anyone.  _ Was he actually in prison?  _ He thought Moody had arrived but maybe that had been part of his fevered dream state and it was someone else.  _ Was he in Azkaban?  _ He didn’t think it likely. He would have at least had a trial and then he would have been given prison garb. 

If he was with the Death Eaters Harry was sure he would have been woken up to torture. So if he was with the Order why was he tied to a chair and behind bars? “Hello?” he called out deciding that finding out what was happening was worth the risk. If it was Death Eaters at least he would know for sure and then he could plan his escape accordingly. 

No one responded but there was the sound of a door being opened and then it sounded like footsteps coming downstairs. A couple of footsteps. So, multiple people...Harry mused. He hadn’t realized there had been stairs in the room either.  _ Good to know, _ he thought inwardly. 

“Ah!” Harry cried out as the entire room was suddenly alight with glowing balls of light floating in the air. Blinking once again to try to get his eyes focused, Harry tried to examine who had arrived. Moody, Dumbledore, and Kingsley and some woman that Harry didn’t recognize. 

“Harry, I’m glad that you are awake now,” Dumbledore spoke, his voice was still gentle and if he wasn’t tied to a chair with bars separating them, Harry might have been more willing to buy the grandfather act. 

“Professor, what’s happening?” He rushed out. Maybe it was all a misunderstanding. His Uncle had died and Harry was pretty sure he had done it. Maybe they had thought he was possessed and was tying him up just to be sure. Professor Dumbledore would clear it all up though. “Please, sir. What is going on? Why am I tied up? I promise I’m not possessed or anything.”

“Yes, my boy, and that is what is most troubling.”

“What?” Nerves twisted in his gut and trepidation started to grow but Harry still clung to the hope that this could all be sorted. “What’s happening, please?”

“What’s happening is that you are Dark, Potter,” Moody growled out in disgust. 

Harry gaped. “Are you serious? How can you say that? It’s me! Harry. I’m just Harry. I’m not Dark,” he pleaded, still finding it hard to believe he was having to do so in the first place. “Is this about my Uncle? I swear I don’t know what happened. If anything it was an accident. But I’m not Dark.”

“It is about your Uncle, my boy, but more importantly it is what you have become. But don’t worry, my boy. We will take care of it. Just trust us.”

Harry’s mind was racing. What was Dumbledore talking about? His Uncle had been an accident. He wasn’t Dark! How was Dumbledore going to take care of it? All four people on the other side of the bars raised their wands and Harry felt panic bubbling within him.

“We are going to bind the evil within you, Potter. Hold still. It’s going to hurt,” Moody growled and almost sounded pleased about the pain it would cause. 

“No stop! Don’t! I’m not Dark! What is happening?” Harry screamed out, his hysteria building as the four wands began to glow a sickly yellow as the four began to chant something that Harry couldn’t fully hear or understand. “NO!” He screamed and again he felt the icy fire spreading throughout his body and dancing across his skin. His fear pushing the sensation past his body like a blurred heat wave towards the four. The four all stumbled at the impact and their wands were lowered. 

Kingsley and the woman fell to their knees while Dumbledore and Moody fell back towards where the stairs were. Harry watched with a detached calm though he was still panicked enough to fuel whatever it was that he had sent to the adults. He watched with a disembodied interest as Kingsley seemed to be able to push himself farther away as the woman fell further to the floor, her skin starting to tinge grey. Harry felt that heady power high rush his head once again as the woman gave one last strangled gasp and collapsed. 

“Demon!” The shout from Moody brought Harry out of his high-like trance and he blinked once again suddenly feeling incredibly exhausted.  _ What the HELL had just happened? What had he done? Had he just killed that woman like he had killed his Uncle? Was he actually Dark like Dumbledore had claimed?  _ Because again he didn’t feel guilty about the woman's death. The three wizards stood on the stairs facing Harry who was looking at them with confused eyes and panic and also a fair amount of rage over having had wands trained on him again. “Crucio!” Moody spat suddenly and Harry screamed out as the spell hit him dead-on. Being tied to the chair both helped and worsened the spell. He wasn’t able to flail about and twist his limbs but the twisting and writhing just made the ropes dig deeper into this skin. 

Gasping when the curse was lifted he barely took three breaths before he was hit again. The pain was excruciating, it was comparable to when Voldemort had held him under. Moody hit him twice more before he was finally given a respite. 

“Why?” Harry croaked, his head lolling to the side as blood dripped from his mouth from having bit his tongue and lips under the curse. 

“It is for the Greater Good, my boy. We can’t have you Dark,” Dumbledore said almost sadly before the three men left the room, plunging Harry into the darkness broken only by the solitary torch. 

***

Hermione Granger knew something foul was happening and she would bet her favorite edition of  _ Hogwarts, A History _ that it had something to do with Harry. But she couldn’t figure it out and it was frustrating her to no-end and filling her with endless worry. Thankfully, Ron, the twins, and Ginny seemed to be sharing in her concern. Something had been wrong all summer, starting from when the Headmaster had once again forbidden communication with Harry. Hermione and the others had all protested this. Sirius had just died! Harry needed someone now more than ever, but the Headmaster had insisted. Well, in a fit of rebellion Hermione and Ron had enlisted the twins to help get a letter out of Grimmauld Place. 

The Headmaster had simply collected the letter mid-flight from the owl and given the four an incredibly long-winded speech about how dangerous and foolish they were being and to simply trust him that Harry was fine. They would see him soon. Having been caught red-handed and appropriately shamed for the moment, they had given in. Then two weeks ago, Ron had brought up Harry’s birthday and if they should send his presents or would he be with them by then to give him the presents in person. The Headmaster had again denied their requests, saying they could just give him the presents late. Hermione did not like that idea at all but she and the four youngest Weasleys had been stumped on how to circumvent the Headmasters’ wishes to actually get the presents to Harry. They had brainstormed for the rest of the two weeks, coming up short on all accounts. 

Finally conceding that they would just have to give him his presents when he arrived and profusely apologize and hope his forgiving nature would accept it. However, on Harry’s birthday, there had been a sudden mad flurry of activity just after breakfast when the Headmaster and Moody had fled the dining room. It was because something had happened to Harry, Hermione knew it. She just couldn’t prove it. 

And then that night, the twins had commented how the Headmaster, Moody, Kingsley, and some other Order woman had disappeared into the basement and only the three wizards had returned all murmuring together. Their Extendable Ears had picked up: ‘how to bind him’, ‘one so powerful’, ‘there is no helping him now’, ‘a Necromancer!’. 

The twins had brought their eavesdropped information to Hermione and Ron who had been laying on Hermione’s bed discussing Harry with Ginny in the next bed over. The five teenagers could only speculate on what that all meant. 

“Guys, can you silence the room?” Ron asked after the information had been relayed. Being of age, the twins were the only ones who could actually use magic outside of school. The two had complied without any banter, unusually serious.

“We have to get into that basement,” Ginny finally announced. “We have to find out what is happening. Something doesn’t feel right and it has to do with Harry. We need to help him and the first step is getting into that basement.”

“Agreed,” Hermione said with a nod. “But we need to do surveillance first, find out when we can go in without getting caught and see if there are any wards put up.”

“Luckily the basement door is right-”

“Near the dining room and -”

“Library doors. It will be easy to-”

“Keep an eye on it and not arouse suspicion,” the twins said, bouncing off each other. 

“Yeah, so we just need to make sure one of us is always watching it during the day,” Ron summarized. “And Hermione, you might want to start researching what you can about Necromancers.”

That conversation had been held three days ago and the five had kept good on their word, watching the comings and goings of the three wizards. Discovering that either Kingsley or Moody would enter after everyone had gone to sleep and then at least one of them would go down sometime before or after lunch. Dumbledore never went back down to the basement but always met with the wizard who went down after lunch immediately upon their return. 

During that time, Hermione had scoured the Black Library trying to find anything to do with Necromancy but most of the books only briefly mentioned it, stating it had died out centuries ago and has been a Family Magic passed down until the family had died out or stopped meeting the requirements. What the requirements were, Hermione couldn’t figure out. The only decisive information she could find was the symbol that represented a Necromancer. A simple crown atop a large circle which held a triangle encompassing a smaller circle with a straight line dividing the triangle in half. 

On the fourth day, it had been decided that Ron and Hermione would sneak into the basement an hour before dinner with the twins and Ginny standing guard and ready to provide a distraction if needed. They hoped that their chosen time would provide them with enough time since the lunchtime visit and that they could mingle with the dinner crowd once the investigation was done and were sneaking back in. 

At four forty-five, Hermione casually put her book down on the end table near her chair and stretched, signaling Ron to give up the pretense of revising his summer homework and join her. The twins and Ginny were casually huddled together over a game of chess but Hermione noted their alert postures as they watched Ron and Hermione leave the Library. Luckily the hallway was empty and having determined that there were no obvious spells or wards blocking entry the previous day, Hermione and Ron slipped past the door and hoped that they hadn’t sent off any alerts. 

Quietly the two crept down the stone stairs, Hermione saw a lone torch flickering about midway through the dark room. “ Homenum Revelio ,” she whispered. The twins had lent the two their wands so that they could cast magic if they needed to without alerting the Ministry. She was using Fred’s wand and it felt odd in her hand. She knew that technically the magic engulfing the house would probably be enough to cover any magic she and Ron might use, but the five had decided it was a necessary precaution to take since they didn’t actually know what was in the room. 

The spell showed that there was only one other person in the room. 

Looking over her shoulder, she saw Ron and held up one finger. He nodded and regripped the wand in his hand. “Lumos,” he whispered just before she did. They sent their balls of light out and into the room. It wasn’t a large room. Pretty bare, though the dank chill crept across her skin causing her to shiver. There was only one thing really in the room. And it was a person, a man, bound to a chair and behind bars in just a pair of dingy blue boxers. The person strapped to the chair moaned and their head was weakly raised at the sudden light. 

Hermione gasped. It was Harry! And he looked awful like he had been tortured. Running down the final steps with Ron right behind her, the two rushed for the bars. “Harry, mate, what’s happened?” Ron asked, his voice slightly hysterical sounding as he gazed at the beaten, half-naked form of his best friend. 

“R-on?” kHarry croaked in a hoarse whisper. 

“Yeah, mate, it’s me. What the bloody hell is happening down here?”

Harry just squinted at the two of them as if trying to decide if they were real and if they could be trusted. The fact that Harry had to question their loyalty stung Hermione but she understood that their actions this summer hadn’t helped their case. “Here, I have some potions. I took some just in case we found the worse,” she said, pulling out three vials from her pocket. “I’m going to levitate them over to you. Just open your mouth for them. One is a pain reliever, one is a calming draught,  and the other is a blood replenisher. Will you need the last two?” Harry gave a weak shake of his head. “Ok, just the pain one then.” She said, with a stiff nod as she popped the top off the vial and levitated the vial through the bars. Her motions were automatic and fluid while inside her mind was a chaotic mess. _ Why was Harry tied up? What were Dumbledore, Moody, and Kingsley doing! _ She took deep breaths as she focused on doing what little she could to help Harry. When the vial reached Harry, he opened his mouth and tipped his head back slightly and she frowned in concentration as she focused on turning the vial upside down, pouring the potion into Harry’s mouth. It worked, a little bit of it missed and dribbled down Harry’s face and neck but the majority landed in his mouth and he was able to swallow it all. 

Ron and Hermione were silent for a moment, allowing for the potion to relieve some of the pain their friend was suffering. They waited for him to speak, watching as he fully lifted his head to stare at the two with piercing green eyes. For some reason, the sight of those eyes vividly reminded Hermione of the Killing Curse. She had always noticed that Harry shared the same color as the curse but it wasn’t until now that she actually felt the connection. “So, are you two supposed to be the Good Aurors? Dumbledore and his goons done with the Bad Auror role?”

“What?” Ron asked dumbly. “No, mate, we didn’t even know you were down here. We just knew something fishy was happening. And knew it had something to do with you. And we’ve been trying to help you!”

Hermione grabbed his arm, knowing that Ron got irate when he started to defend himself and that wouldn’t help matters. “He’s right, Harry. Ron, Fred, George, Ginny and I, we’ve been trying to contact you all summer. We’ve tried writing letters but Dumbledore stopped them all. We wanted to send you presents too but he wouldn’t let us and we couldn’t find a way around it. I swear it, Harry. We have nothing to do with whatever is going on here. Please, believe us.”

Harry was silent as he stared at the two of them, while they held their breath and tried to prove their innocence through their eyes alone. “Alright. I’ll believe you for now. So you really don’t know what is going on?”

They shook their heads sadly. “We kind of hoped whatever was hidden down here would give us the answer and we would be able to tell you all about what we found when you arrived,” Ron admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Do you know why you are down here?” Hermione asked timidly. 

“They say I’m Dark and they are trying to, I guess, torture it out of me,” Harry commented coldly. Hermione gasped.  _ Torture?  _

“How could they think you were Dark!” Ron spluttered. 

“Torture?” Hermione whispered. 

“Moody is pretty handy at the Cruciatus,” Harry sneered. 

“But why!” Ron growled in frustration. Harry shrugged and it was then that Hermione saw it. That mark! The mark on Harry’s chest. 

“Harry!” She said sharply. “When did you get that?”

He blinked and glanced at his chest. “My birthday. All summer I’ve been in this feverish pain and it all climaxed on my birthday. When I woke up my eyes were fixed and this mark was on my chest. Do you know what it is?” His question conveyed how hopeful he was that she would have the answer to his problems like she always had in the past. 

Weakly Hermione nodded. “It’s the mark of a Necromancer,” she finally said. 

“A Necromancer,” Harry breathed, “me?”

“It seems like it,” she replied. 

“That would explain some things, actually,” he sighed. 

“But Necromancers died out centuries ago,” Ron protested. 

“There were two trains of thought, either the family had died out because apparently, it is a Family Magic. And the other was that people just stopped meeting the requirements to become a Necromancer. And no, Harry, I don’t know what the requirements were. That’s all I could find, actually. Well, that and that mark.” She waited while the two boys processed that information. “What did you mean Harry by this explaining things. What things?”

“Well before my birthday I started killing the plants in my Aunts’ garden. Not on purpose, but just being near them I guess caused them to start wilting. And then the day of my birthday. My Uncle, well you two know how much he hates me.” The two nodded and Hermione felt her gut start to twist, dreading to hear the end of the story. “Well he started going into me again and then, I don’t know what happened. Something just came over me and I was strangling him and he was turning grey. And next thing I knew, I was on the ground and he was dead. Moody arrived and stunned me. I woke up here.” Harry’s eyes were unfocused, staring at the ground in front of him while Ron and Hermione sat as a captive audience. “And then when I woke up, Dumbledore, Moody, Kingsley, and some lady arrived. They started saying how I was Dark and how they were going to take care of it. They raised their wands at me but I panicked and then that feeling occurred again and it was like before. I don’t know what happened but I was able to send out this wave or something towards them. The other three managed to escape but the woman didn’t. She died too. And that’s when Moody started on with the Crucio’s.”

There was silence as the three processed the information. “You really never do things by half do you mate?” Ron asked with a sigh.

“I didn’t mean for any of that to happen. I swear it. I didn’t mean to kill that woman or my Uncle. I swear. I don’t know how to control it. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve only just found out what I apparently am. Please, don’t hate me,” his last plea was a whisper but in the silence of the room, Hermione and Ron easily heard it and Hermione’s heart broke.

“Don’t be silly, Harry. Of course, we don’t hate you. We stood with you at eleven and we stand with you now. This is just another part of you. It’s your magical inheritance, no one has a say in that and those who get them just need the proper training. You are the only Necromancer in the world right now, that we know of. So, of course, you can’t control it. You just have to train yourself.”

“She’s right mate. We are with you. You’re my best friend. I’m not going to stand by while you get tortured in the bloody basement! And I know you’re not evil, so Necromancy can’t be all that bad. Right?” 

Harry smiled a little and his eyes were brighter. “Right.”

“Harry, do you know what Dumbledore might be planning?” Hermione asked, bringing the focus back in. 

He frowned in thought. “They keep talking about binding and needing a fourth. I don’t know exactly what though. But I guess they plan on binding my ability and need four wizards to do so, that’s why they had that woman before.”

Hermione stared in shock. The Headmaster was planning on binding Harry’s Necromancy! A magical inheritance couldn’t be bound and if it was it would only result in the death of the individual. A magical inheritance was part of them, it was what they were. That couldn’t be bound.

“That will kill you!” she whispered horrified. 

“Your Necromancy must have realized what was happening that night and fought back, that’s why that woman died,” Ron mused. “That might be why they are torturing you, trying to weaken you so that when they try again they won’t be killed in the process.”

Hermione nodded in agreement and Harry's mouth twisted in disgust. “The bloody bastards,” he spat. A sudden triple knock on the door above them echoed through the room and Ron and Hermione jumped to their feet. That was the signal. 

“We need to get going. We can’t get caught,” Hermione explained. “We’ll get you out of here, Harry. I swear it.”

“Stay strong, mate, we won’t let you down,” Ron agreed as he grabbed Hermione’s arm and dragged her up the stairs. 

Heart pounding at the information she had just learned, Hermione and Ron slipped past the door as casually as she could manage. She spotted Ginny leaning against the wall, she must have been the one who knocked. Fred and George were making a ruckus at the entryway, entertaining the Order members who were arriving. Spotting Dumbledore standing by the crowd, Hermione felt her stomach lurch. She couldn’t handle sitting across that man, sharing a meal with him as if nothing had happened. Like he wasn’t torturing her best friend beneath their feet. 

“I can’t do it, Ron,” She whispered, grabbing at his hand, her eyes wide. “I can’t face him right now.”

He gave a grim nod. “I know what you mean. But if I don’t go in there it will draw suspicion. I never miss a meal.” Hermione was surprised to note how bitter the redhead seemed to be at that statement. 

“Cover for me, I’ll start figuring out how to help Harry,” she whispered before darting up the stairs towards her bedroom. Ron would calm his siblings and keep people from seeking her out. Once in the room, she locked it and pulled out any books she could think of that might help her. Sadly, she couldn’t go back to the library until after dinner, but she had brought many of the books with her for late night reading. So hopefully she would find something. 

Harry needed them. She would not let him down.     
  



	3. No Matter What You Choose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rescue attempt and Harry plots his next steps and which side he needs to belong to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything is J.K. Rowlings. I only claim the plot. Everything else is hers, all the characters and the magic, all of it. Please let me know what you think though, I encourage feedback of all kinds, just be nice about it!
> 
> Again, thoughts on Severus Snape. Thoughts on pairings. And leave comments!

**No Matter What You Choose**

 

There had been three more torture sessions since Ron and Hermione had visited him. The last one ending a couple of hours ago. So Harry guessed it had only really been a day since the visit. Harry still wasn’t sure what to think of that meeting. They had seemed sincere and horrified at what they had discovered. Hermione had finally told him what the mark on his chest meant which was apparently the reason for all of this. He was a Necromancer and so was assumed Dark. His best friends had sworn to stand by him, they had explained how they tried to contact him over the summer but how Dumbledore had thwarted their attempts. They had promised to help free him.

Harry just hoped he could trust them. He desperately wanted to. If Ron and Hermione ended up betraying him like Dumbledore, Harry didn’t think he’d be able to handle it. He was sure that would be his breaking point. Now, he just had to wait for them to come through.

He coughed and felt it wrack his chest, causing his muscles to clench in pain. Harry didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to withstand this treatment. He was sure he already had a cold on top of everything else from being in a dank, cold dungeon in just his boxers for who knows how long.

Some way to kick off being sixteen, he thought miserably. He heard the door creak open and light footsteps patter down. So it wasn’t an adult. Harry had already started memorizing the footsteps of his torturers. He felt a flicker of hope rise within his chest which only flared higher when a Lumos was cast and he saw Hermione and Ron.

“We don’t have much time,” Hermione hissed, pulling out her wand. “Ginny is guarding the door and the twins are ready to apparate you out of here. Ready?”

Harry could only give a jerk of his head, Hermione seemed to take that as a yes and began casting some spells. Harry wasn’t sure what the spells were since he couldn’t hear her murmured words but he could see their effects. The ropes holding him to the chair fell away and two of the bars broke off and clattered to the ground but there was no noise when the bars hit the stone. Ron rushed forward and gathered Harry in his arms, scooping him up like a bride. Harry felt like he should protest but given how he doubted he could stand and his voice protested words, he allowed it to happen. Hermione led the way up the stairs with Ron following. Ginny opened the door for them, holding a bag full of something that Harry didn’t know and was too exhausted to care. The youngest Weasley gasped at his appearance in her brothers' arms but beside her eyes widening, she said nothing.

“Harry, the twins are going to take you with them. This bag is full of potions and some spare clothes,” Hermione explained as Ginny handed the bag to a twin while Ron passed Harry into the other twins' arms. Ron and Hermione then passed their borrowed wands to the appropriate twin.

Harry hoarsely protested the treatment but they all ignored him. “Stay safe, Harry. We are with you. No matter what you choose,” Ron said, staring into Harry’s eyes with an odd sense of solemnity that sent a shiver up his spine. He felt like he was missing something very important but was too exhausted to figure out what. Instead, he just gave a small nod, that seemed to satisfy Ron because he stepped back and let his brothers step out the door. Harry felt the breath of a summers night breeze brush across his skin and felt himself relax slightly before the twin holding him disapparated and the squeezing sensation of being sucked through a vacuum disrupted the breath.

If he had eaten at all in the past few days, Harry was sure he would have thrown up when they arrived where ever they were. As it was, he had nothing to throw up and was barely conscious as he felt the twin holding him gently lower him onto something soft. Harry was fairly certain it was a bed.

“Alright, mate, take some of these. Hermione’s orders. They will help, promise,” one of the twins whispered, holding a vial to his lips and a hand on the back of his head to hold it up. Harry couldn’t even protest and dutifully drank the potions pressed to his lips. He counted four before he was lowered down again and left to slip into sleep.

***

Harry woke up disoriented. He was starting to really hate waking up not knowing what was happening or what had happened. It was becoming a far too regular occurrence for his liking. He looked around, he was in a bed with dark purple sheets and a bookshelf and soft wood-paneled walls. _Where was he?_ Another thing he was starting to hate having to ask. He cast his mind back, trying to piece together the turn of events. He remembered Ron and Hermione returning to him. He had been rescued! That was it. His friends had saved him and the twins had taken him somewhere and filled him with potions.

He tried sitting up and noticed he could with only a little bit of pain. He spotted a glass of water on the bedside table next to about three other potions and a note.

 

_Harry,_

_Be sure to take these when you wake up. The water should help wash them down. The bathroom is just past the door with the Arrows poster. Get freshened up, there should be some clothes in the rucksack near the bed. Come out when you are done and we will try to fill you in on what’s happening._

_-Forge and Gred_

 

Not seeing a reason to argue with the note and its advice, Harry downed all three potions as quickly as he could before draining the water. Rolling out of the bed, Harry cautiously put his feet on the floor and attempted to stand. His legs were shaky but could hold him. Stiffly he walked the few feet towards the bathroom door and turned on the shower. He was really starting to hate being in situations that caused him to go days without showering.

Harry steadfastly refused to look in the mirror, afraid of what he might see. Instead, he put all of his focus on watching the water heat up and eagerly hopped in and sighed as the hot water splashed across his skin. Grabbing the soap, Harry began to lather and scrub at his skin trying to scrub the memories of the whole bloody summer out of his skin.

Finally deciding to give his skin a break since it was a raw red color, Harry washed his hair and stepped out. Drying off with an orange towel, Harry finally decided to brave the mirror. He looked terrible but probably not his worst. The potions he had been given were definitely helping because his eyes didn’t look as sunk in and his skin was starting to gain color again. His arms, legs, and torso were scarred but healing though he would probably always have marks from the worst of them. His ribs were showing but given the fact that he had hardly eaten all summer given his feverish state before his birthday and then the torture after it that was to be expected. But he could smell food drifting into the bathroom and he hoped the sight of his ribs would fade again.

Before stepping away from the mirror, Harry glanced at the mark on his chest once more. The symbol tattooed into his chest marking him as a Necromancer. Harry still didn’t know what he thought about that. _How was he a Necromancer?_ No one had said anything about the Potters being connected to them and apparently, they had died out. _So why now? Why him?_ Harry frowned at the mark through the mirror, before sighing. It was just another thing that made him different. He could do nothing yet until he had more information. Stepping back into the room, he spotted the rucksack and pulled out some jeans and a t-shirt. Pretty simple and probably Rons, but Harry wasn’t too bothered. Anything was better than just his boxers.

Finally, he opened the other door that he assumed led to the rest of the house and he was right. He spotted a large sitting room with a small kitchen and bar area. And at the bar were two redheaded men that looked up as Harry stepped into the room.

“Harrikins!”

“You’ve finally decided-”

“To grace us-”

“With your presence.” Harry couldn’t stop the chuckle escape his lips.

“Hey, guys. Mind filling me in on what all has happened?”

The twins’ faces of happiness morphed into one of sympathetic understanding and seriousness. One, Harry was pretty sure it was George, patted the stool next to him while the other, Fred he guessed, began piling a plate full of eggs, bacon, and toast.

Nervously, Harry took the seat and accepted the food. The twins exchanged glances, having some silent conversation while Harry took his first bite of food. It was good, not Molly Weasley good but the twins were doing well.

“Alright, well first things first,” George started, turning in the stool to face him better. “This is our apartment, it’s right above our store. We bought it with the money you gave us after the Tournament.” Harry nodded to show he was following, inwardly glad that the twins had actually been able to buy their shop.

“You’ve been asleep for a little over a day now,” Fred continued. “We’ve been monitoring you and putting salve on your wounds so we are pretty sure you will heal up just fine.” Harry noticed they weren’t doing their ‘twin speak’ and he was grateful for the courtesy given the serious topic but knew it wouldn’t last.

“What day is it?” he finally asked after finishing off his bacon.

“August seventh,” George answered.

Harry just nodded. So he had been sixteen a week already. That must have meant he had been in that dungeon for about five days. “Thank you, for helping me,” he finally said.

“Of course!”

“You’re our brother-”

“We couldn’t-”

“Just leave you-”

“Down there.”

Harry felt a warmth fill his chest at their declaration and smiled gratefully. “So what do you two think of all this?”

“What you being a Necromancer?”

“Or Dumbledore and Moody trying to torture it out of you?”

“Both?” Harry shrugged, draining the pumpkin juice George had poured for him.

“We don’t care much about you being a Necromancer-”

“Not much is known about that lot anyway-”

“You’re still our secret investor-”

“And our honorary brother-”

“Nothing changes that-”

“Now you just have a cool tattoo.”

“As for Dumbledore-”

“Well, our thoughts-”

“Aren’t for innocent ears.”

Harry rolled his eyes at that. He was hardly innocent. But Harry had to hold back a shudder at the disgusted sneers that were twisting the twins' faces. He had never seen the twins look so angry and villainous, it was the only word he could think to describe the change in their countenance at the mention of the Headmasters name.

“So now what happens?” He questioned instead.

“That’s kind of up to you,” George replied.

“Unfortunately, we are only going to be able to hide you here for so long before Dumbledore comes to investigate. So we are going to have to find you a new place,” Fred sighed, looking completely devastated at the thought.

Harry felt a twinge of sadness and bitterness but pushed it aside. He understood. The twins were pretty powerful but they were no match against the Headmaster and Harry admittedly didn’t want to put his friends at risk like that. So he did need a place to stay and hide.

“And then there is another issue,” George continued.

“I need training,” Harry finished for the man. The twins gave him resigned nods. “When do you suspect Dumbledore to arrive and search for you?”

“Soon,” Fred answered.

“We are actually pretty surprised he hasn’t turned up yet,” George continued.

Harry gave a nod and stood up, his plate empty. He had a lot to do then. “There is one more thing. Ron said something, right before we left Grimmauld. That you’d stand with me, no matter what I chose. Did you mean that?”

“Every word,” the twins said together. Harry just gave another nod before disappearing into the bedroom he had woken up in.

Almost in a trance, Harry sat down on the edge of the bed. So much had happened and he was still in a slight state of shock to fully process it all. So he decided to make a list of the things he knew and the things that needed to happen.

First things first, he was a Necromancer. He, Harry James Potter, was a Necromancer. This came with information, responsibilities, and abilities that he had no knowledge of. Which led to the second thing. He needed information and training in Necromancy. All he knew was it dealt with the dead. He needed more than that. The third thing he needed was his wand, it was probably still at the Dursleys along with the rest of his stuff. Hopefully, his relatives hadn’t trashed it all. And what about Hedwig? So his wand, owl and supplies, he needed those. The fourth thing was he needed a safe place to learn all of this stuff because the twins were right, it was only a matter of time before Dumbledore showed up.

_Dumbledore_. Harry felt hatred flare up at the thought of the Headmaster. The man whom he had trusted and the man who had betrayed him, who had tried to kill him. For the Greater Good, of course, Harry sneered. Just because of a magical inheritance that he couldn’t control, Dumbledore had turned his back on him.

That was fine. He had just dug his own grave though because Harry was going to make him rue the day he ever turned his back on him. Loyalty, trust, and honesty were probably the most important things to Harry, and Dumbledore had set fire to them all.

Harry would have his revenge, of that he was sure.

And it wasn’t just trying to kill him over being a Necromancer, though that was pretty high up there. It was also refusing to tell him the blasted prophecy that resulted in Sirius dying, not helping him with his Occlumency which also resulted in Sirius dying, forcing him to live at the Dursleys despite the evidence of abuse and begging to go anywhere else, constantly withholding information from him, treating him like a child...no there was a long list that Harry had against Dumbledore, but this was just the thing that finally set it off. Dumbledore had claimed him Dark, well the old man would see just how Dark he could be, Harry thought bitterly.

Dark...Harry mused. Despite accepting that he was a Necromancer and knowing that he had killed two people because of it, he still didn’t think of himself as Dark. He definitely wasn’t Light, but was he really Dark? He wasn’t sure, so, for now, he would withhold judgment on the whole concept.

However, Necromancy was considered amongst the Darkest of Arts, he knew that much, and he needed information and training. Harry stopped himself mid-thought. _Was he really considering what he thought he was considering? Could he really stand before that man and ask for help?_ The thought made him want to throw up but he needed training or he would constantly be a danger to those around him. _What if his emotions got away from him and Ron or Hermione or the twins or Ginny or Luna or Neville paid the price?_ Harry felt sick at the thought. No, he needed training and information so that those close to him would never be in danger of him. Plus, he wanted revenge against Dumbledore. Who else would be better suited to help him with revenge?

_Could he put aside their past, in order to accomplish his revenge?_ After all, at the moment, Harry hated Dumbledore far more than Voldemort. _Could he handle the lesser of two evils to satisfy his desires to protect his friends?_ Harry wasn’t sure. But thinking of Voldemort caused him to think of the prophecy, which was pretty ludicrous in his opinion. But he supposed it did hold some truth, especially with this whole Necromancy business brought to light.

However, the more Harry thought about it, the more he realized that there were only three reasons that he hated Voldemort. The death of his parents, the death of Cedric and the death of Sirius, though Sirius hadn’t happened by the Dark wizard's hand he had played a role that led up to it. That list compared to Dumbledore's was eye-opening.

He was getting off track though. He needed to decide on a course of action and the one that was forming was one that made him queasy. He didn’t have much time to dwell on it though when he heard a muffled knock on the door. Fred and George suddenly burst into the room, their eyes and motions slightly frantic, both wearing purple striped suits.

“Dumbledore is here. Harry, you need to get out, quickly there is a back entrance. We are the only ones that know of it,” Fred grabbed his arm and started shoving him out the door and towards a wall that separated the two bedrooms.

“Quickly,” George hissed. “Remember, Harry, we are with you. No matter what.” Before Harry could say anything in response, Fred had pushed him through the wall and he was suddenly sliding.

It took a lot of willpower to not shout because he didn’t want to alert anyone to his position. The whole slide was dusty from lack of use and he was sure he was getting filthy again. He stumbled when the slide ended and he was suddenly stepping through another wall and into an alley. Harry blinked, gaining his bearings once more. He could see crowds of people milling about that looked like wizards and witches and so Harry guessed he was in an alley off of Diagon, probably behind the twins' shop. Nodding to himself, he crept closer trying to take stock of his position. He saw Fortescue's and Madam Malkins across the street. Good, he knew where he was.

Unfortunately, he still didn’t have a plan and he still didn’t have a wand. Feeling a wave of panic sweep over him, Harry shoved it down. Panic wouldn’t help him now. His eyes darted over the crowds of people, trying to figure out what to do before Dumbledore or Moody inevitably looked in the alley behind the shop.

Chewing on his lower lip, Harry saw a flash of platinum blonde in the sunlight and started. ‘ _We are with you. No matter what you choose.'_ The words floated into his mind as he stared at the signature blonde hair.

_They had known!_ His friends had known from the start what would need to happen and had been trying to tell him they would still stand with him without forcing his choice. He really had no other choice. He needed help. He needed training. Bloody hell, he needed protection from the Light. No better place than with the Dark, he thought humorously.

Throwing himself into the decision and not giving himself a chance to overthink it, Harry bolted into the street. Keeping his head down so as not to be noticed, he plowed through the people trying to get to Malfoy. As he got closer, Harry realized that Malfoy wasn’t alone, he was with the other Slytherins in their year. Harry recognized Zabini, Nott, Crabbe, Goyle, Parkinson, Greengrass, and Davis.

Bloody hell he really was diving into the snake pit. Uncertain of how to approach the situation and knowing he was running out of time before Dumbledore spotted him, Harry put on an extra burst of speed to reach his classmates. His panic was bubbling in his stomach and he felt sweat trickling down his neck and forehead, probably smearing the dust and dirt that he had picked up on the slide.

“Malfoy!” He gasped out when he finally reached the group. Thankfully they were standing on the opposite side of the street as the twins' shop, a little apart from the moving crowd near a shaded alcove.

“Potter!” Malfoy cried out, too startled to put the usual sneer in his voice.

“Shhhh!” Harry hissed out, frantically looking around to make sure no one in the crowd had heard the shout.

Harry glanced back at the Slytherins who were all eyeing him like he was a caged lion about to attack, which probably wasn’t too far off.

“What the bloody hell is wrong with you, Potter?” Malfoy asked, finally recovering from his shock. “I guess the Prophet was right about you being lost in the head.”

“Shut up. Now is not the time,” Harry gasped out, glancing back over his shoulder. “I need your help.” He gritted out, his eyes meeting Malfoys’. The group was in shock, all of their Slytherin masks faltering at his statement.

“Why should we help you?” Parkinson sneered, one of the first to recover. “Your Harry bloody-”

“Shut the fuck up!” Harry cut her off. _These people really loved shouting his name about, don’t they?_

“How dare you-” Parkinson bolstered.

“I need your help. Now. Please. And stop saying my bloody name!” Harry was sure he was probably looking pretty deranged right now but he was tense and he knew any minute now Dumbledore would step into the Alley and see him.

“Potter, are you alright?” Zabini questioned slowly.

“No. I’m far from alright. Listen, I need you to take me to Him.”

The entire group flinched and gaped at him.

“What! I don’t know what you-”

“Oh stop it,” Harry cut Nott off. “I know your parents all work for him. And I need to go to him. Now!” Dumbledore had exited the twins' shop and was scanning the Alley, Harry was practically vibrating with panic. “Look I don’t have a wand, I can’t attack him. Please, take me to him. If anything just think of how much favor you’ll get for being the ones to bring me in. I promise you though he is going to want to talk to me.”

“Why?” Greengrass asked shrewdly. They weren’t hostile towards him anymore but still incredibly suspicious. This was all taking too much time though.

“HARRY POTTER!” Harry flinched at the sound of his name and knew that Dumbledore had spotted him. The elder wizard was starting to storm through the sea of people who were luckily making it difficult by getting in the way, so frightened they were by seeing the typically grandfatherly Headmaster angry, while also now on the lookout to spot their famous savior.

Harry looked back at the group of Slytherins who were staring at him as though expecting him to sprout wings while also eyeing the enraged Headmaster. Quickly, he pulled the collar of the shirt he was wearing down, bearing the mark on his chest. He was desperately hoping that being from the families they were they would at least recognize the mark.

It seemed he was right. Recognition dawned on all of their faces at the sight. They looked back at him with renewed interest and dawning understanding. “Please, take me to him. Please. I’ll owe you a favor. Please,” Harry begged, beyond caring about pride. If Dumbledore caught him he would be dead anyway, so what did pride matter?

“Meet us there,” Malfoy ordered the others, who all nodded and pulled out what turned out to be portkeys. “Grab on, Potter,” the blonde ordered holding out his arm. Harry grabbed it without hesitation. Dumbledore was drawing near in about ten more seconds he’d be close enough to grab him.

Malfoy activated the portkey and they disappeared. Landing, Harry fell to the floor and took the moment to look around him. It was a large ballroom type of room with a raised dais at the far wall with a throne on top with black cloaked people, maybe fifteen or twenty, facing it but none of them wore the signature masks. Malfoy’s portkey had brought them to the front of the crowd and in front of the dais.

“My Lord,” Malfoy said swiftly, kneeling. It was then that Harry realized Voldemort was in the room and his scar wasn’t hurting. He would think on that later though because he needed all of his thoughts on the present. Standing quickly, Harry spun around to face the man, who until quite recently, had been his nemesis.

Voldemort. No turning back now.

 


	4. Prove It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry speaks with Voldemort and hopes to make a deal with the devil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything is J.K. Rowlings. I only claim the plot. Everything else is hers, all the characters and the magic, all of it. Please let me know what you think though, I encourage feedback of all kinds, just be nice about it!
> 
> Again Voldemort is sane in this story. 
> 
> Also:  
> Votes for Severus Snape: What to do with him -Dumbledore sheep or Voldemort lackey? And what of his relationship with Harry - tersely cordial or unlikely friend?  
> Votes for pairings: Voldemort. Draco Malfoy. Daphne Greengrass. Another Death Eater -and if so, who?

**Prove It**

“My Lord, I have brought you Harry Potter.”

The explanation was a little unnecessary in Harry’s opinion but he kept silent as he stared at the Dark Wizard before him who was stepping off the dais and approaching Harry and Malfoy. The man was just as snake-like as he remembered and he fought nausea that turned in his stomach.

“Yes, I see that.”

Malfoy must have taken that as a dismissal because he backed away to the front row of the encircling crowd with his head bowed. Harry caught a glimpse of him standing next to his father who didn’t look like Azkaban suited him. Luckily it seemed that Bellatrix wasn’t present, Harry wasn’t sure if he could have controlled himself if he had seen her deranged face.

“Well, well, Potter. I must admit you have surprised me,” the man hissed, his red eyes tracing the length of him, probably taking in the rumpled clothing as well as the dirt and sweat mixture streaking his bruised and scarred skin. Harry refused to avert his eyes from Voldemorts gaze though. He may be coming to make a deal with the devil himself but he was not one of the man's little minions. “I was not expecting you to be such an eager volunteer.” A few of the brave Death Eaters chuckled but Harry kept his head held high.

“I wouldn’t exactly call myself a volunteer, so much as a man wanting to make a deal.” Harry hadn’t spoken loudly but his voice carried much the same way Voldemorts was doing. He wondered if the man had cast some spell to make it so that every word was heard.

“A deal you say? What could you offer me?” The monster before him continued as though his minion hadn't spoken.

“Quite a few things. Whether I give them is depending on how much incentive I get.” His heart was pounding and his hands were sweating but he kept his voice even with every bit of willpower he possessed. At the moment he had no cards but he had to act like he held them all if he wanted to stay alive.

Voldemort actually chuckled at this and it didn’t sound snakey it actually sounded human. How odd. “I do appreciate your spirit, Potter, but might I remind you that you are the man who begged to come before me. Had a change of heart, have you, Potter?” The man mocked him and his fellow minions snickered.

“You could say that,” he replied which shocked most of the followers into silence. Voldemorts eyes flickered with curiosity but he didn’t show anything else. “Turns out we have a common enemy now.”

“Oh?”

“Albus Dumbledore.” The red eyes widened momentarily before narrowing once again.

“Explain.”

“It has come to my realization that Dumbledore is not the great man I was lead to believe. This was made obvious to me after being tortured by him and his sidekicks for five days. I’ve only just escaped with the help of some friends.”

“Tortured? Dumbledore tortured his savior?” Voldemort repeated, obviously not believing a word.

“Yes, torture. At least that’s what I call being subjected to the Cruciatous consecutively multiple times a day.”

There was a flicker of surprise in Voldemorts crimson depths as he stared deeply into Harry’s own as if trying to see the truth. However, Harry realized that along with improved eyesight, his ability to kill, and the little mark, his Occlumency shields had improved. He had realized this when Dumbledore had tried Legilimency on him in the dungeon and couldn’t read anything. Of course, at the time he hadn’t understood why.

“And why, Potter, would Dumbledore see fit to put his little Savior under such a curse?”

Harry steeled himself once more. He had known this would be the result of this meeting but he was still nervous at revealing his mark. Sure, he had shown the Slytherins but he had been desperate and hadn’t really been able to think things through. Now he would be showing not only Voldemort but the Death Eaters as well.

Gathering up that Gryffindor courage, he raised his hands to the shirt collar and pulled down; revealing the mark to the room. “Look familiar?” he asked quietly, watching Voldemorts face for the moment of recognition. He didn’t have to wait long, he heard gasps among the Death Eaters, knowing they recognized it too. “Apparently, this means I’ve gone Dark. Can’t have the Light’s Savior turn Dark, now can we?” His voice was soft but the bitterness that edged it was clearly evident. “So Dumbledore saw to trying to cure me when his attempt at binding me failed.”

Voldemorts’ eyes flicked from the symbol to Harry’s face multiple times as he processed Harry’s words. “Dumbledore tried to bind your inheritance?” He asked slowly. Harry nodded and released his shirt collar. “That would have killed you.”

“So I’ve been told,” Harry replied simply. Voldemort glanced at him once more before starting to pace, obviously thinking everything through.

“Prove it.” Harry blinked. He hadn’t been expecting that, though he really should have. Of course, Voldemort wouldn’t just trust the mark he would need evidence.

“Fair enough. There is just a slight problem.” Voldemort looked gleeful as if he was being proven right that Harry was lying. Harry saw him fingering the yew wand. “I can’t control it. As of right now, it seems that I need strong emotions, typically anger or fear in order for it to work.”

“How have you come to this reasoning?”

“I’ve already killed twice,” Harry replied simply. “My uncle and a woman Dumbledore enlisted in the binding ritual. Both had heightened emotions involved.” Voldemort seemed to be considering this. If Harry stared at the man intently enough he could almost forget their silent audience.

“You mean to say that you don’t feel anger towards me?” His question seemed almost innocently curious and Harry could understand why.

“No, I don’t. I mean I can’t very well hate the man who might be my ticket to better things.”

“Then who?”

Harry thought about that for a moment. “Two people. Bellatrix Lestrange or Peter Pettigrew. Take your pick.” Harry hated them both and so he wasn’t too fussed about which he would have to kill to prove his honesty. He hated Dolores Umbridge too but it would take more time to bring her here.

“Wormtail, come forward,” Voldemort finally said and there was a sniveling whimper at the outskirt of the crowd. Just the sound made Harry sneer in disgust and he didn’t even bother to hide his revulsion, which seemed to intrigue Voldemort whose eyes never left his face as the crowd parted and someone pushed Pettigrew forward. The crowd closed up again and Harry caught a few eager faces but he ignored them.

Instead, he focused on Pettigrew. The man who had betrayed his parents. The man who helped cause him to be an orphan. The man who had framed Sirius, helping instigate the events which led him to the Dursley’s doorstep. This man might not have directly done any of it but his cowardice was definitely the precipice from where it all cascaded down. Harry felt his hatred about the Dursleys, his hatred over Sirius’s imprisonment, his hatred over his parents' deaths engulf him as he stared at the sniveling rat-like man. He wondered absently if the ease at which anger and hatred overtook him should be cause for worry. The man in question was prostrating himself between Voldemort and Harry as if unsure who he should be showing the most attention.

The hatred came to a boiling point as Harry felt the icy fire start to slide down his skin once again and the heady high engulfed his senses once more, he breathed out a sigh of relief and satisfaction as the feeling claimed him. He gracefully offered down his hand to the man on the floor. Startled and still unsure about what was happening because he had been in the back and too short to see what was occurring, Pettigrew took hold of Harry’s offered hand only to then start gasping as the air left his lungs. He couldn’t pull his hand away as his skin slowly started to turn grey. Harry again observed everything very calmly while he felt the icy fire obey his wishes and basked in the power rush he was feeling. He hadn’t really been able to observe his power before. With his uncle, it had all happened so fast and then he had been stunned and the woman had been farther away.

Pettigrew finally gave a last gasp before crumpling to the floor, grey and lifeless, his hand finally free to fall from Harry’s grasp. Harry was oblivious to all around him while he continued to absorb and revel in the high the death produced. Another death justly delivered, some primal part of him thought with satisfaction. After probably a minute or so, Harry was able to gather control of himself once again and come back to reality, though he still felt slightly dazed.

He saw the awed and fearful gazes from the Death Eaters out of his peripherals but he only stared into the red eyes of Voldemort who looked like he had just been given his Christmas gift early. At least judging by his eyes, the rest of his face remained impassive.

“Well, well, well, it seems you were telling the truth. Harry Potter is a Necromancer.” The words were whispered but carried across the room and Harry felt a chill creep up his spine as the words caressed him. “Yes, I do believe we can make a deal now.” Harry refused to show the relief that he felt at those words and merely nodded.

“Great. However, might we retire somewhere privately? I don’t want to conduct negotiations on such a public scale, no matter how captivated our audience.”

“How can I know you don’t still work for Dumbledore and will use your gifts against me?” The man didn’t seem at all concerned about this possibility, merely seeming to ask out of formality.

“You don’t,” Harry shrugged with a small grin. “But are you going to let that stop you from hearing this deal of mine?”

Voldemort continued observing him for another minute before conceding his head in a regal nod. “Very well. Leave us.” The hissed words hung in the air a moment before the Death Eaters caught on to the dismissal order and scampered out of the hallway to where they could apparate away. Harry spotted his classmates, out of the corner of his eye because he refused to be the first to drop his gaze, looking back at him while their parents dragged them out. There were a few minions that lingered, possibly concerned over leaving their Master with a Necromancer. Harry assumed they were the Inner Circle but Voldemort dismissed them as well.

Once they were alone, Voldemort then gestured for Harry to follow him into a side room. Nervously, Harry followed the man and couldn’t help his surprise at the sight of a small sitting room. It held two plush couches of dark green and a dark wooden coffee table atop a decorative rug with some bookshelves lining the walls. It was rather cozy and incredibly offputting.

Voldemort sat down in one of the couches and gestured for Harry to take the other one. Stiffly, Harry did so and felt incredibly awkward compared to the snake-like man across from him. The two former enemies sat in silence, both observing the other. The man across from him was just as vivid as the one in his nightmares, there was no difference between this monster and the one from his past: the same slitted nostrils, the same alabaster skin, the bald head, the crimson eyes, the skeletal hands.

_Could he really do this?_

“So you wanted to make a deal. I’m listening, Harry Potter.”


	5. Welcome to the Dark, Potter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Voldemort strike a deal. Harry attempts to adjust to the surreal turn his life has taken and interacts with some House Elves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything is J.K. Rowlings. I only claim the plot. Everything else is hers, all the characters and the magic, all of it. Please let me know what you think though, I encourage feedback of all kinds, just be nice about it!
> 
> Reviews are wonderful. Also votes for Snape and the pairings.

**Welcome to the Dark, Potter**

“So, you wanted to make a deal. I’m listening, Harry Potter.”

Harry was unsure how to proceed from here though he knew the goals he wanted. He was still slightly reeling from the fact that all of this was happening. A week ago he was stuck at Privet Drive in pain and suffering, mourning Sirius and hurt over the lack of contact from his friends. And now he had been tortured by those he thought his mentors, was a Necromancer and was turning to the Dark to meet his goals.

Licking his lips, he took a deep breath to get a loose grasp on his thoughts before speaking.

“There are three things that I want and all three I think will only serve to benefit you,” he began. “The first, I need information and training. I have received my magical inheritance as a Necromancer and need to learn how to control it and learn what all of that entails. I’m sure you can see the benefits of this.” Harry paused and the snake man gave a slight nod, his red eyes observing everything. “However, speculation says that Necromancy was a Family Magic of some kind and records have been lost. It is my hope that you might have come across information that might lead me in the right direction.” Harry paused again but Voldemort gave no indication to respond so he pressed forward. “Second, I need protection, at least until I can control what I can do, from Dumbledore and the Light. This allows you to keep an eye on my progress while also allowing you something to hold over Dumbledore’s head.” Harry hoped that this was enough incentive even though he hated making himself sound like some prize that the two Leaders could place on a mantle and flaunt, however accurate it might seem. “The third, I want revenge.” This caused Voldemort to raise a hairless eyebrow in interest. “Dumbledore has fucked with my life for far too long and trying to torture and kill me is the final straw. He needs to pay for everything he’s done to me. And it is my understanding that you also want to ruin Dumbledore, I figured having a Necromancer might be prudent to your goals in this.”

There was silence as Harry’s heart pounded waiting for Voldemort to speak. He hoped he had made it an appealing offer.

“You make an interesting offer in demands, Potter,” the man began. “Yes, I can see the benefits of this arrangement, but I want some additional concessions.” Harry tried not to appear too nervous at this. “First, I want the prophecy, I know you heard it all.” That was easy enough to give Harry thought but remained silent. “Second, I want assurance that once I have assisted in training you that you will not turn your skills upon me.” Again, made sense and while Harry felt incredibly conflicted over it, he was pretty sure he’d agree. “Third, which is more of a clarification. What are your plans after your revenge on Dumbledore is complete?”

Harry sighed. “In all honesty, I’m not sure. I know that the old man needs to be dealt with and that is my focus. After that, we shall see. Why?”

“What if you had a place within my ranks?”

“No.”

“Excuse me?” Harry witnessed the fury flare in the red depths at the outright refusal.

“No. For two reasons. One, I am not one of your minions and I never will be. I will not bow to you ever, so I cannot be in your ranks. Second, just because I require your assistance and that our goals in the destruction of Albus Dumbledore align, it doesn’t mean that the rest of our ideas do.”

“What do you know of my ideas, Potter?” Harry was about to speak about the mindless killing and supremacy of Purebloods but held back. What did he actually know that wasn’t spouted by Dumbledore? Luckily, Voldemort didn’t seem to expect an answer. “How about this?” He continued, forcing Harry’s attention once again. “I will offer my protection within the Dark and provide you with any and all the tools necessary to train and educate you in your inheritance. In exchange, you will recite to me the prophecy, you will swear to not turn your powers against me after my generosity. Together we will take down Dumbledore as allies. However, I request that after the revenge is complete you reconsider my offer to officially join me. Do we have a deal?”

Harry thought it over. It couldn’t hurt to reconsider in a couple of months, he supposed. He didn’t think he’d really change his mind but agreeing to think it over wouldn’t hurt anything. “Two things. I want a promise that you also will not kill me if I swear to not kill you I need the same assurance. Same with torture, again I’m not your minion, I’d be your ally, you can’t just Crucio me anytime I annoy you. Second, I want protection for my friends as well. The ones that helped me escape. They aren’t siding with Dumbledore much either these days.”

“I can swear to not kill or harm you during your time under my protection, however, if you decide against my offer after our goals are met then I cannot be held to the same promise.”

“Fair, I get the same luxury. I’d need to protect myself after all,” Harry said with a cheeky smirk.

“As for your friends, if they swear to not raise wands against me and mine, I can promise the same.”

“I’ll let them know and inform you of the decision,” Harry said. He wasn’t going to promise his friends wouldn’t still fight the Dark just because they didn’t trust Dumbledore anymore. That would be their choice.

Voldemort gave a regal nod of his head. “So do we have a deal, Potter?” The man held out a skeletal hand.

Harry stared at the hand for a moment, his thoughts racing and his heart beating painfully in his chest. _Was he really ready for this?_ Yes, he wanted revenge and he wanted to learn how to control himself so he wouldn’t harm others unintentionally. It wasn’t like he was signing his life away. This was just temporary after all, just until he learned all that he could. Right, just temporary, just business. A quick dose of revenge and then he’d be out. His thoughts persisted along this train of thought but as Harry reached his hand out he couldn’t help but feel his heart flutter in the realization that nothing in his life was ever that easy. However, the abnormally long, cold, pale fingers were closing around his dark, warm, calloused hand and Harry couldn’t help but feel his fate being sealed. A pulse of pure magic flashed from between their clasped hands, cementing their deal in the eyes of magic.

“Welcome to the Dark, Potter,” Voldemort said with a smirk on his thin lips. Harry swallowed hard as their hands dropped apart and all he could do was nod, his hand still tingled with the after effects of the magic. “I will have an elf escort you to your room for the time being. In two hours we will have an early dinner and discuss things more thoroughly.” Again, all Harry could do was nod. This was all so surreal. “Mimsy,” Voldemort called out and a female House Elf popped into the room. She wore a simple dark green smock and looked fairly young.

“Yes, Master? Master be calling Mimsy?”

“Yes, this is Harry Potter, he will be a permanent resident with us for the foreseeable future. You will treat him as our honored guest. Do you understand?” The young elf bobbed her head, looking excited at the prospect of another wizard to serve. “Please inform the other elves. Now, have a room cleared and settled for him. In two hours we will have an early dinner in the small dining room. Please see that it will be ready.”

Mimsy nodded once again and turned fully to Harry. “Come Harry Potter sir, follow Mimsy, sir.” Harry stood stiffly as the elf turned and walked away. Harry glanced back at Voldemort who was still reclining on the plush couch who was still eyeing him with great interest like Harry was some insect to dissect. Swallowing, Harry fumbled for a minute on what to do before just turning and leaving.

Harry was grateful for the little elf because he was sure he would have gotten lost. He knew they were on the third floor but aside from that, he wasn’t sure. The manor was dark and felt both spacious and cramped. He was sure that if there were more light and a better paint job it would help the place tremendously. He brushed those thoughts aside though. He was here to learn all he could about Necromancy not redecorate the Dark Lord’s home. He shivered in revulsion at just the thought.

Finally, Mimsy stopped before a solid dark wood paneled door. “This is Masters’ Wing, Harry Potter sir. The most protected wing it is, sir. But sir is Masters most honored guest so Master will be pleased,” the little elf rattled on as she opened the door and led Harry inside. Slightly horrified at learning he would be in the same wing as Voldemort, Harry pushed the thought aside and focused on his new room.

It was beautiful. There was a large four poster bed with dark blue covers and the walls were a soft grey that felt incredibly warm and comforting. There were two doors off one wall and Harry guessed they were the bathroom and closet. There was a dark wooden desk pressed against one wall that was covered with a large window that let in an incredible amount of light. The floor was also a dark wood paneling but with a beautiful large rich blue rug that stretched from under the bed to the two armchairs at the foot of it facing a quaint fireplace. In the corner where the windowed wall with the desk and the wall containing the two doors met there were three large bookshelves with a few books already on them but otherwise fairly bare. Harry smiled at the sight of the room.

“Harry Potter sir needs to be getting new clothes, sir.” Mimsy’s voice brought him back and he looked down at the little elf. “Harry Potter sir needs to be letting Mimsy be taking his measurements, sir. Masters orders.” Harry wasn’t sure when Voldemort had ordered that but not wanting to upset the elf and agreeing that he needed new clothes, Harry agreed. Stripping out of the borrowed clothes, Harry left them in a pile on the floor and faced Mimsy so she could measure him.

However, she gasped, her tennis ball eyes widening to an insane degree. “Harry Potter sir is a Death Master?” she asked in trembling awe. Harry blinked and looked at the mark on his chest. He supposed that sounded accurate for a Necromancer and so he gave a small nod. Mimsy gasped again. “Oh, Mimsy has heard only stories of the Death Masters! Mimsy is greatly honored to be serving the Harry Potter Death Master! Mimsy will be getting Master Death Master anything he wishes, just call on Mimsy, Master Death Master.” The little elf was rushing out her words so quickly that Harry was having trouble following.

“Mimsy it is alright, thank you for your service to me. What stories have you heard about the Death Masters, Mimsy?”

“Mimsy be hearing how the Death Masters be the balance of all. The Death Masters be the sword and shield they be. The Death Masters be justice.” Harry blinked. That was not the stories the wizards had spread...he wondered when the change in stories had occurred but he quite liked Mimsy’s view over the wizards.

“Thank you Mimsy, do you know much else about them?”

Sadly, Mimsy shook her head. Her large ears flopping and drooping. “No Master Death Master. Mimsy be sorry. Mimsy will be asking the other elves if they be knowing more stories.”

“Thank you Mimsy,” Harry said kindly. He really did appreciate any information he might get at the moment and the House Elves apparently had a whole other view to provide. Glancing down at the elf he realized he was still naked. “Um...Mimsy? Do you think you can finish measuring me?”

“Oh, yes Master Death Master. Of course, Mimsy is being sorry, Master Death Master.” The elf rushed out as she began snapping her fingers and drawing forth tape measures from thin air. Harry had the feeling of being put under the intense scrutiny of Madam Malkins and Ollivanders all at once with the flying measuring tapes.

After about a minute all of the flurries stopped. “Mimsy be having it all Master Death Master. Mimsy be getting you your robes and be back before the meal with Master.”

“Thank you Mimsy,” he said before the little elf disappeared. Harry sighed, he was alone once more and completely out of his depth. He really needed his wand though, he wouldn’t feel completely safe until he had it once again. If only he could pop around like a house elf. _Wait!_ “Dobby?”

Harry could have laughed in delighted relief when the familiar little house elf popped before him, decked out in socks and hats. “Dobby!”

“Master Harry Potter sir called for Dobby?” Dobby asked looking as enthusiastically eager as ever to please Harry. When Dobby gasped suddenly, shock and awe replacing his enthusiasm. “Master Harry Potter is a Death Master?” Harry blinked and realized he was still naked but had nothing to cover himself with.

“Um...yes...it seems I am. Is that alright, Dobby?” Mimsy had seemed thrilled with it but Dobby had always been an odd elf.

“Alright? Dobby is beyond honored to be in Master Harry Potter Death Masters’ presence! Dobby wishes only to please Master Harry Potter Death Master.” Harry grimaced at the mouthful of a title.

“Just Harry, Dobby, please. The rest is too much of a mouthful.” Dobby nodded, still staring up in awe at him.

“Dobby always be knowing Master Harry Potter was a great wizard, and now Master Harry Potter is being a Death Master!”

“Yeah, look Dobby I need your help with something.”

“Anything Master Harry Potter. Dobby lives to serve the Great Harry Potter.”

Harry grimaced again but pressed on before realizing something. “Wait, you live to serve? But I thought you were a free elf.”

Dobby looked incredibly embarrassed and ashamed and ducked his head, wringing his ears. “Dobby is being a free elf, Master Harry Potter sir, technically.”

“Technically?”

“House Elves be needing a wizard bond, Master Harry Potter sir. So Dobby did bind himself to Master Harry Potter sir but it is not complete and so Dobby is being technically a free elf.”

Harry was reeling. Dobby had bound himself to him! “Why isn’t it complete?”

“The binding is being needing both parties, Master Harry Potter sir.”

“Do you want me to complete the binding, Dobby?” Harry asked, trying to stay calm about all of this and look at the upside. Having his own house elf would definitely have its benefits.

“Oh yes, Master Harry Potter sir. Dobby would be honored to be the Great Harry Potters elf!”

“Ok, Dobby. What do I need to do?”

“Master Harry Potter sir needs be only accepting Dobby, magic be doing the rest, Master Harry Potter sir.”

 _Accept him?_ It was rather vague instructions but Harry complied. Willing himself and his magic to accept the house elf before him. He wasn’t sure it was working until Dobby glowed and the hats and socks dissolved leaving Dobby in a clean pressed black outfit with a golden crest of some kind on the left breast pocket.

“I guess it worked?” Harry asked stunned at the change in appearance.

“Oh yes, Master Harry Potter sir. Dobby is being yous own house elf now. Dobby is feeling the powerful magic of Master Harry Potter and Master Harry Potters’ Death Master magic. Dobby is honored Master Harry Potter sir!”

Harry could only nod. Dobby could feel his magic? He supposed that was why the bond needed to be a two-way thing. He would have to look into it. “I’m glad you’re happy Dobby. But listen, I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything Master Harry Potter sir.” Those tennis ball eyes were shining in awe once again.

“A lot has happened this summer Dobby. I’ve become a Death Master but Dumbledore and the Light didn’t like that and tried to torture it out of me. No! Don’t- stop Dobby! It’s OK, I’ve escaped. My friends helped me.” Harry placated the horrified house elf before the creature could go into a rage on his behalf. “Now listen. When I was captured I didn’t have any of my things and I don’t know where they are now. But I need you to retrieve six items: my wand, my invisibility cloak, the Marauders Map, Hedwig, my photo album and my Firebolt. Please Dobby, if you have to choose, choose the first four. Now, I don’t know where any of them are and they might already be destroyed. But do what you can to retrieve them. Check my relatives' house at Privet Drive first there is a loose floorboard in my room that I hid a lot of my things in. And then check Grimmauld Place that’s where I was held captive. Please, do not be seen. Especially by Dumbledore, Moody or Kingsley. Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and the twins should be able to help you if need be. OK?”

“Yes, Master Harry Potter sir. Dobby be getting his things as quickly as Dobby can.”

“Great thank you, Dobby. But before you go, you need to know where I am now.” Dobby paused and looked at Harry oddly with a tilt of his head.

“Master Harry Potter sir is being with the Dark Lord.”

“How do you know that?” Harry asked in shock.

“Dobby is being Master Harry Potter sirs’ elf. Dobby is being knowing where he is being.”

“Right, sure,” Harry said dumbly. The elf seemed obviously fine with that knowledge and so Harry didn’t press. “Anyway, yeah, get those six things for me. Please. And remember, don't be seen except by those I trust. Thank you, Dobby.”

Dobby gave a small bow with his ears flopping and disappeared with a crack. Harry sighed. Knowing Dobby was working on it made him feel rather relaxed. Dobby wouldn’t let him down, of that Harry was certain. The room was suddenly feeling very empty again and so not sure what else to do, Harry went to the doors in the room. He opened the first and saw that it would be the closet when he had clothes. For now, it was an empty walk-in closet of a decent size, bigger than his old cupboard and just a little smaller than his bedroom at Privet Drive. Harry doubted he would have enough clothes to ever fill it fully but shrugged it off. He wouldn’t be here forever after all, just until his revenge was complete.

Going to the other door, Harry opened it and saw the bathroom. Again, it was bigger than his bedroom at Privet Drive. It had white tiled floors and marble counters with an absurdly large bathtub taking up one corner and then a huge shower in the other corner. Having nothing else to do for the moment and not wanting to pass up the chance, Harry went to the shower. He may have only just showered that morning at the twins but he still felt dirty from the lack of showering he’d been able to have throughout the summer. And he still had a little over an hour before his meeting and meal with Voldemort.

Stilling struggling to come to grasp with all of the changes that had occurred in his life in just the past week let alone in the past twenty-four hours, Harry sighed as the hot water splashed against his skin. He would get through this. He would figure out what Necromancy was all about. He would train himself and gain control. He would protect his friends and those still loyal to him. He would destroy Dumbledore for all he had done to him. And hopefully, he wouldn’t lose all grasps on his sanity by actually siding with the Dark, even if it was temporary, and living with Voldemort.

Harry focused on the hot water and the way the soap lathered up in foaming suds on his darker skin to try to not think about the tailspin his life seemed to be in. It wouldn’t help anything to lose focus. So at the moment, he was finding it best to just not think of anything, not even his friends, though he was desperately hoping they would all be fine and that Dumbledore hadn’t caught them in their deceit. Shaking his head again, Harry pushed those thoughts away. Nothing good would come of the worry.

He wasn’t sure how long he had stayed in the shower trying to escape his problems but he finally relented to stepping out of it after his fingers resembled soggy raisins and his skin was more red than brown. Spying a fluffy grey towel conveniently hanging on the hook near the shower door, Harry took it and mentally thanked whichever elf it was that left it.

The towel was soft and felt wonderful against his skin. Running it over his hair he realized that he didn’t have any actual clothes beside the ones that he had been given by Hermione. And those were still in the main bedroom and he doubted the elves had left it there. Frowning slightly, he caught sight of a robe hanging behind the door in the same dark blue as the bedspread. Slipping it on, he sighed at the softness before continuing into the bedroom. He didn’t see any changes and the clothes he had dropped for Mimsy to measure him were no longer on the floor. He wasn’t sure what the time was and he didn’t have his wand to check but was certain that an elf would come to get him when it was time for dinner. So, Harry stood nervously in the middle of his new room that Voldemort had provided.

Chewing on his lower lip, Harry rocked on his heels trying to decide what to do. Spying the bookcases, he mentally shrugged and wandered over to see what the few books on the shelves contained. There were ten books spread across the shelves, seemingly random. Harry spotted three books about potions one of which resembled his textbook, two about advanced charms creation, three about the Dark Arts, one which looked like an Ancient Runes textbook and then one which looked like a child's fairytale book. Blinking at the oddity of seeing a children's book on the shelf, Harry picked it up and read the cover, _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_. Not really wanting to read anything to strenuous with how overloaded his mind already was, Harry took the children’s book with him to one of the plush armchairs and curled into the chair.

Flipping through the first few pages he saw the Table of Contents and couldn’t help but be amused at the titles of the stories. _The Wizard and the Hopping Pot, Babbity Rabbity and the Cackling Stump,_ and _The Warlock’s Hairy Heart_ were some of his favorite titles. Absently he skimmed over the pages, not fully reading them but picking up on a few things that stood out to him. He had just reached a story titled _The Tale of the Three Brothers_ when a pop sounded and Mimsy was in front of him again.

“Master Death Master sir needs to be getting dressed he does. Master is being expecting him for dinner soon.” Harry placed the fairytale book on the end table and smiled at the elf.

“Of course Mimsy, thank you for alerting me. But I don’t have any clothes yet.”

Mimsy looked at Harry as though he was incredibly stupid. “Master Death Master, youse clothes is being in the closet, sir.”

Harry reddened. He probably should have checked that. “Oh, right. Thank you Mimsy. Um...do you mind helping me get ready? I don’t know what is expected for me to wear.” He said walking to the closet doors to hide his embarrassment.

“Mimsy is being honored to help dress Master Death Master,” the little elf said in delight and popped into the closet just as Harry was opening the door to gape at the wide expanse of clothes that had suddenly filled the formerly bare room. Harry gaped. It had only been about an hour. How had Mimsy gotten so many clothes?

Chalking it up to elf magic, Harry accepted the dark green robe with black trimming that Mimsy shoved into his hands and silently got dressed. He glanced at the full-length mirror that was hanging on the back of the closet door and couldn’t help but be impressed. The robe fit him incredibly well and matched well with his eyes. He almost looked regal. Harry doubted he’d ever be able to pull off the look in public like Malfoy could but it did boost his confidence a bit. Sadly his hair was still just as untameable as ever.

“Alright, Potter. Can’t back out now. Time to dine with the devil,” he whispered to himself in the mirror before following Mimsy back through the maze of hallways to the dining room.

Harry entered the dining room that Mimsy had guided him to and stepped in trying to swallow his nerves. However, the sight before him made him freeze. _What the bloody hell!_ Harry stared in shock at the man sitting at the head of the table. It could only be one person. Though older than when Harry had previously encountered him, there was no doubt. Looking like he was in his late twenties sat Tom Riddle.


	6. My Family Line?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry learns a bit more about his family history and he and Voldemort work on forming an uneasy truce.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything is J.K. Rowlings. I only claim the plot. Everything else is hers, all the characters and the magic, all of it. Please let me know what you think though, I encourage feedback of all kinds, just be nice about it!
> 
> So pairing votes:   
> Voldemort/Harry - 5  
> Daphne/Harry -3  
> Fenrir/Harry -1  
> Other suggestions have been Rabastan Lestrange and Blaise Zabini. There was a suggestion for a three-way Draco/Harry/Voldemort. Which would be cool but I'll say no for two reasons: I don't think I could write a triad relationship to full justice and two, I don't picture Voldemort as the 'sharing' type, Draco either actually. 
> 
> So currently, still sticking with Voldemort/Harry. As I'm writing more and more chapters for this (because I've currently written fifteen in total and not even close to done) I see that pairing progressing stronger. So if this displeases you, sorry but I guess just stop reading then? Or continue to see if maybe you can believe the relationship. It is a slow burn. I mean Harry is still technically underage for another year. So I envision lots of tension building. 
> 
> Also, this chapter talks a bit about Harry's family line. I mention his description briefly in the first chapter about him being slightly darker skinned thanks to his dads' side and then the lightning scar looking more like an actual bolt of lightning rather than that scratch in the movies. I mention briefly here that the Potters immigrated from India. I've read a few stories with an Indian Harry and I really liked that image and could picture that being just another reason why he stood out and another reason why the Dursleys didn't like him. It doesn't focus prominently in the story because that isn't the main influencer but casual references will be made, but I figured I should maybe clarify it in case it wasn't picked up on. 
> 
> Again, reviews are greatly welcomed and appreciated!

**My Family Line?**

Harry gaped. It was Tom Riddle for sure but how? Harry had only just spoken to the snake version of Voldemort not but two hours ago. Was this really all just a bizarre dream? Harry considered it. Maybe he would wake up and he’d still be at Privet Drive fevered and in pain.

“I’m glad you enjoy the view, but please take your seat. We have a lot to discuss.” Harry was snapped out of his minds spiral and his cheeks reddened of their own accord. That voice, it was just as cool and smooth as it had been in the Chamber. The only difference was that the red eyes were still present. But the perfectly coiffed dark brown hair sat upon the man's head and while the man was still pale he wasn’t translucently so. He even had a nose! And lips! The Dark Lord was bloody handsome, the bastard!

Jerkily Harry tried to force his legs to move, taking the seat directly across from the man. He still needed to provide some distance between them, no matter what the deal had said. Voldemort said nothing about his choice of seat and instead snapped his fingers and an elf scurried out bringing plates of food. The two men sat in silence as the food was brought forth. Harry turned down the offer for wine by the elf, he needed all of his wits about him and just settled for a glass of water; noticing that Voldemort didn't have wine either.

The elf left and the two were in silence once again. “Do help yourself,” Voldemort said easily as he began filling his own plate with a helping of the roast and potatoes. Working on autopilot and feeling incredibly numb, Harry copied the man's motions hardly able to take his eyes away. “Go ahead and ask your questions, Potter,” the man sighed.

“How? Why? You’re not-” Harry trailed off how did he even begin to ask.

Voldemort seemed amused, the quirk of one eyebrow being the only indication. “Such a Gryffindor. Well, Potter, allow me to answer your uncouth and garbled questions. This is my true form. Admittedly the way you saw me when I exited the cauldron at the graveyard was my rebirthed form, however, the miscreant Wormtail butchered the resurrection potion, leaving me in that state. It has taken the better part of this year to correct the mistake. I do appreciate your disposal of the sniveling fool.” Harry shifted uncomfortably at that casual praise. His mind was still trying to process things. Voldemort was talking to him quite easily like they hadn’t been sworn enemies just that morning. “As for why I am showing myself like this to you, well, as you pointed out during our meeting, you are not my Death Eater. You are an ally. There is no need for fear and intimidation techniques when it is just the two of us. Also, I don’t enjoy the thought of walking about my own home in disguise.”

“Right,” Harry said dumbly. _Was this Voldemort's way of showing that he trusted Harry? Or maybe even valued him?_ Harry scoffed at that thought internally. No, Voldemort most definitely did not trust or value him, well the man valued him for his inheritance but that was it. They merely had a deal and Voldemort was employing some strange Slytherin technique against him to set him at ease. Given the fact that they had sworn to not kill or harm each other while in this alliance Harry allowed the attempt to work but swore to still remain vigilant.

Mind still numb, he began cutting up his roast and he put some in his mouth to chew robotically. He really was out of his depth and was content to wait for Voldemort to take the lead.

“Now, Potter, on to our arrangement,” the man began after about five minutes of silent eating. “You requested protection and I requested the prophecy.” Harry nodded, settling back in his chair. “You also requested information, and I have been searching through my library, a library I will show you and grant you access to after dinner, to find any books pertaining to Necromancy and while I haven’t found a great deal I do believe I know where you need to start in your search.” Harry was listening intently. Finally, he was getting somewhere. “However, I shall show you all of this at the conclusion of dinner. For now, in exchange for the protection provided you shall recite to me the prophecy.”

It was a rather abrupt demand and Harry hadn’t been expecting it. He’d expected something more eloquently phrased but maybe Voldemort was realizing that Harry wasn’t some Slytherin minion and that blunt would work best? However, given that he really didn’t put much stock in the prophecy, and one of his requests was already being fulfilled, Harry sighed and recited the words that had imprinted themselves onto his mind the moment Dumbledore told them to him. “ _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives …”_ Harry took a sip of his water after he finished and watched Voldemort for his thoughts. “Personally, I don’t put much stock in it. But I’ve never really cared for Divination anyway and I don’t like some crazy bat dictating my future any better than I like the meddling old coot controlling my life.”

Voldemort stayed silent and Harry let him, finishing his roast in the silence. “Interesting, I will look into it more however if my theory is right, it might not hold its power anymore.” The man appeared to be thinking out loud and while he was curious Harry didn’t have the energy to question it. “Now, Potter,” the crimson eyes were focused on him again. “What do you know about Necromancy?”

“Not much actually,” Harry admitted with a sigh of frustration. “I didn’t even know what the mark was, Hermione had to tell me. I know the stories of Necromancers being the Darkest of the Dark and how a lot consider them evil or something. But I don’t feel Dark or evil. However, I spoke with Mimsy and apparently, elves have a different interpretation of Necromancers.” Now that he had a human face, Harry was able to pick up on the different emotions displayed easier and noted the interest in the news of the elves. “Apparently to the House Elves, Necromancers are called Death Masters. And according to Mimsy the stories they have pertaining to them paint Necromancers as the balance of all, the sword and shield and justice, which does sound better.”

“Admittedly I have never heard of this interpretation by the elves, but it does prove that there is more for you to research than what my library might be able to provide,” the man frowned, disrupting his smooth pale features. “Do you care for dessert?” Harry blinked and shook his head. He wanted answers! “Very well, follow me then.”

The man stood gracefully and Harry jolted upright and had to hold himself back from running after the man as he led him out of the room. His heart was starting to pound faster again in the hope of learning something about these powers. Hermione had said Necromancy was considered Family Magic. It was another secret to unravel about his ancestry and Harry was desperate to learn it.

It was only about five minutes later that Voldemort led him through a set of double doors and into a library that could rival the one at Hogwarts. Harry could only imagine how excited Hermione would be at seeing this place. There were rows of shelves going down the center of the room and shelves lining the edges of the room. Towards the front was a sitting area with some tables. Two couches and two chairs formed a circle of sorts with small end tables next to each. Off to the side were two larger tables with books already stacked on them with some sturdier chairs settled around them.

“These books are the only ones I could find mentioning Necromancy,” Voldemort said, placing his hands on the two stacks of books on the table, making Harry realize he had been left awkwardly gaping at the room. Harry glanced at the stacks, seven books in total. It was better than nothing though. “Tell me, Potter, what do you know of your family line?”

Harry tore his gaze off the books that could possibly hold some answers and looked at the man providing them. “My family line? Like the Potters?” The man pursed his lips and looked almost annoyed but nodded. Harry found the reaction odd but answered. He wasn’t in the position to argue right now. “Not much. They were purebloods until my dad married my mom,” Harry felt his throat close up slightly not at all comfortable talking about his parents in front of their murderer. “I get my hair and skin color them,” Harry frowned, wracking his brain for any other tidbit he could recall that had been mentioned about the Potter family. Voldemort continued to stare at him, his eyes not missing anything. “I don’t know much really. Apparently, the whole lot of them were in Gryffindor.” Harry shrugged, feeling highly embarrassed at his lack of knowledge and felt his anger starting to bubble towards the man knowing he was the cause of his lack of knowledge.

“I feared as much,” the man said simply. “You might want to read up on your family history,” he said picking up a large tome next to the research stack. Harry glanced at the title and saw it had something to do with wizard genealogy. “This is a document of every known member of each Pureblood family. The Potters have a chapter in here.” Harry stared at the book unable to hold back on his longing. There had been a book with a whole chapter about his family! Why had no one told him! “There is another family that I believe would do you well to read up on. Have you heard of the Peverells?” Harry shook his head. “Take a seat Potter and allow me to give you a brief lesson in the history of wizards.”

Nervously, Harry took the offered seat across the table from the Dark Lord as the man prepared to give him a lecture about his own family history. His anger rising over the absurdity of it all. This man was the reason he was an orphan! This man was the reason he had no knowledge about his family history! Clenching his jaw and fisting his hands, Harry concentrated on keeping his temper in check. He needed the information and if he had to listen to Voldemort then he would. He would let his temper loose in the privacy of his room. He needed information and he needed to learn but his jaw was starting to ache from the force he was putting into keeping it shut, Harry turned his attention to the human version of his former nemesis.

“There is such a thing as the Sacred Twenty-Eight, are you aware of this?” Harry frowned that did sound familiar.

“A little.”

“The Sacred Twenty-Eight is a compilation of what some Pureblood long ago deemed as _the_ Purebloods. Your friends Weasley and Longbottom are part of this list. The Potters, however, are not despite their long withstanding Pureblood lineage. There are two reasons for this. The first being the commonality of the last name. Potter is also common among muggles and so the creator of this list thought that the Potters had already been intermingling to gain such a last name. The second being the staunch pro-muggle views that the family has always espoused.” Harry was surprised at how professional this lecture was, there wasn’t even any sneering when the word muggle was said. Voldemort was in full lecture mode. “Now, there is another ancient Pureblood family that also did not make the list but that is because it died out in the male line before the list was created. This is the Peverell family.” Voldemort paused and Harry nodded to show he was following though he was confused as to why this all mattered. “Have you ever heard of _The Tale of the Three Brothers_?”

“I saw it in the book in my room but I haven’t read it,” Harry said, shocked at the familiarity of the title.

“I suggest you read it tonight. It discusses three brothers and how they apparently outwitted Death himself gaining three incredible artifacts in return. This is, of course, a child's story but all fairytales are based on truth to some degree. The Peverell brothers Antioch, Cadmus and Ignotus are considered the three brothers that story is based on.” Harry hated the fact that he was hanging on every word that came out of Voldemort’s lips. The damn man was too charismatic for his own good and Harry had a feeling that everything from this lecture was going to come together quite soon. “There are many rumors that these three brothers were most likely the Necromancers of their generation.” Harry held his breath his eyes wide and sitting on the edge of his seat. _Who were the Peverells? How was he connected to them?_ “Sadly, the line of Peverell ended only a few generations after these brothers, at least in the male line. The youngest brother, Ignotus had a granddaughter by the name of Iolanthe. Now, young Iolanthe later married a young man by the name of Hardwin Potter a first generation immigrant from India, continuing the family Potter from there and carrying the blood of the Peverells along the way.”

Harry was reeling. So the Potters had merged with the Peverells who were rumored to have been Necromancers. Information and knowledge about his family history. Harry felt a little overwhelmed. “So I’m descended from the Peverells and gained my inheritance through them, but why me? Why not any other Potter?”

“That I cannot tell you. There are rumors of requirements to be met to claim the inheritance that apparently, no one but you has met.” Harry frowned at that. “However, this inheritance does give you a connection to the Peverells and so I suggest you speak with the goblins at Gringotts. Request access to the Peverell vaults, there should be journals in there discussing the Family Magic and that will give you a better understanding of how to proceed.”

“I’ll go tomorrow morning then,” Harry agreed, already trying to plan out how to work it. He still didn’t have a wand which made him leery to leave the protection of Voldemort’s home. At least here he knew he wouldn’t be attacked if only because of the deal they had struck.

Voldemort merely nodded and stepped away from the table, allowing Harry to grab the books provided. Harry did watch the man out of the corner of his eye and saw him claiming one of the couches, summoning a book for himself.

“Potter?” His name being called broke his concentration and he glanced up. He had just finished reading the chapters about the Potters and the Peverells and was starting to flip through the first book discussing Necromancy. “Where is your wand?”

Harry flushed and glanced back at the table. “Don’t have it,” he mumbled, feeling his face flushing red and his nerves tighten. _Would Voldemort take this opportunity to attack him despite the deal?_

“Where is it?”

“Don’t know. I didn’t get to grab it when I was taken captive.”

“You willingly came to my manor without a wand?” Harry could hear the disbelief in the tone and couldn’t help but smirk a little and turn fully to face the man who looked astonished. It was still strange seeing emotion, no matter how minuscule it showed, on the man's face.

“I needed help and protection for a reason. Besides, I think I would have been able to hold my own given my inheritance.”

Voldemort eyed him through narrowed eyes. “It was still a foolish risk. What if I had cursed you as soon as you arrived?”

“I was relying on the fact that you’d be too curious about why I was appearing before you to automatically kill me outright. I know that you like knowing all the details, you don’t like being out of the loop. Hence I was betting you would wait.”

“You seem rather confident in your assessment of me.”

“Am I wrong?” Harry asked with a confident tilt to his head as he gazed at the man who looked decidedly uncomfortable at the turn of this conversation. Harry let the silence hang for a moment more before changing the topic. “What should I call you?”

“Excuse me?”

“What should I call you? I mean I’m not your Death Eater so ‘My Lord’ is out. Voldemort is better suited to your snakey persona. And I know you hate Tom, and I’m not foolish enough to anger you every time I want to talk if this arrangement is to last. So, what should I call you?”

Voldemort was silent in thought. “Call me Marvolo. However, this is a privilege you may only utilize when we are in private. Is that understood, Potter?”

“Harry.”

“Excuse me?”

“You calling me Potter is going to get old fast. So I guess when we are in private you can call me Harry. We are allies after all. Sound good, Marvolo?”

“Yes...Harry.” Given how bizarre the conversation was becoming, Harry abruptly spun back around to face his books and tried to focus on the words before him.

“You will need a wand before you leave for Gringotts.”

“I’m working on it,” Harry replied, not wanting to turn around. “I’ve got my elf gathering up the items I don’t want to fall into the wrong hands.”

Since Harry was still focused on the book in front of him he wasn’t able to see whatever expression Volde- _Marvolo_ made but the man didn’t say anything else. Until it was time for bed two hours later. By this time, Harry had already gotten through five of the seven books and they all said the same thing. Beyond frustrated, Harry gave a short nod to Marvolo before following Mimsy to his room.

Collapsing into the unfairly soft and silky sheets of the bed. He read through the children’s story that was apparently based on his ancestors and found himself with more questions. With a sigh, he placed the book on the bedside table and flopped back onto the pillows. But Harry couldn’t shut off his mind no matter how much he tried. He tried to organize everything that had happened.

First, he had been shut off at the Dursleys apparently undergoing his magical inheritance. Then he had his inheritance, felt great and killed his uncle...by accident. Dumbledore and Moody suddenly show up, stun and kidnap him locking him up in a dungeon below Grimmauld Place. Dumbledore, the supposed Leader of the Light and the man who Harry trusted and respected and looked up to, tortured him! Cursed him and tried to bind his magical inheritance that would have led to his death if done right. Dumbledore wanted him dead there was no question. Luckily his friends were still loyal to him and had rescued him. Which only led to the confusing day which was today. He had begged and pleaded with his classmates and been taken to strike a deal with the Dark Lord himself. Considering all that he had already learned, at least about his family history, Harry couldn’t really regret his decision yet. He hoped he wouldn’t regret it in the future either. And he hoped his parents and Sirius forgave him and understood why he was choosing Voldemort, however temporarily.

Because it was just a temporary deal. There was no way that Harry could officially join him. Absolutely not. The fact that the man looked attractive and acted incredibly sane and provided him with answers held no influence. No, this was all temporary. Dumbledore would perish and Harry would go on his merry way...somewhere….

_Just temporary_ , Harry repeated to himself as exhaustion finally claimed him.

 


	7. If Magic Accepts and Approves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Marvolo talk over breakfast and Harry goes to Gringotts to learn more about his inheritance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything is J.K. Rowlings. I only claim the plot. Everything else is hers, all the characters and the magic, all of it. Please let me know what you think though, I encourage feedback of all kinds, just be nice about it!
> 
> Thank you, everyone, for the reviews and the kudos and bookmarks! Like I said at the beginning, this is a new territory for me exploring the Dark side of the war and all of that. So I'm really glad that people are enjoying it.
> 
> Again, I am about 90% positive this will be a Harry/Voldemort story. But I'm still open to ideas about Snape though!

**If Magic Accepts and Approves**

Harry opened his eyes to take in the dark blue canopy above him with the morning sunlight warming the light grey walls. It took him a moment before he remembered that he was in Voldemort’s - _No_ , Marvolo’s- house. He groaned and sunk deeper into the fluffy pillows and silky sheets.

“Master Death Master sir!” a squeaky voice called making him bolt upright only to stare down at an unfamiliar elf who stood to the side of his bed nearest the door.

“Yes?” Harry questioned, taking in the same apparent uniform that Mimsy had worn, only now it was a dark green shirt and trousers.

“Master Death Master is being needing to wake up for breakfast, sir. Master is being wanting Master Death Master there in thirty minutes.”

“What time is it?”

“It is being seven thirty, Master Death Master,” the little elf dutifully replied. “Is Master Death Master being needing anything from Tobi?”

Harry glanced at the little elf once again and gave a nod. “Yes, Tobi. Could you help pick something for me to wear? I plan on going to Gringotts today to talk with the goblins about entering my family vaults and want to look the part.”

“Of course, Master Death Master! Tobi is being honored to be helping.” The little elf scurried towards the closet while Harry threw off the covers and dragged his feet to the bathroom.

Quickly showering, he then brushed his teeth and dried his hair. He was getting some very evident stubble on his jawline though and without his wand, he’d have to ask the elves to get him some shaving supplies. Stepping out he smiled at the robes that Tobi had chosen. They were a dark green almost black and after glancing in the mirror Harry knew he cut an imposing figure in them. The potions from yesterday morning in addition to a full nights sleep and actual food yesterday were already improving his haggard complexion from being trapped in the dungeon cell. His already darker skin helped to hide the bags under his eyes and bruises on his skin. He knew he needed the goblins to take him seriously enough to listen to his requests and so any little bit helped. Nodding to himself, he ran a hand through his hair and sighed. It was getting long though, after the craziness of the past month he hadn’t really put much thought towards it...but maybe he could tie it back? He had seen Sirius do it before.

“Tobi, can I have a hair band?” The little elf was only too happy to comply and Harry tentatively pulled back his hair and tied it at the nape of his neck. For the moment it seemed to hold his hair well. The little tuft of black hair that jutted out past the hair tie barely brushed against his neck but the top of his hair looked contained which was good. However, Harry wasn’t sure how long his hair would remain contained. For now, he wouldn’t mess with it. “Great, thanks, Tobi. Now, can you help me get to the dining room?”

Tobi nodded eagerly and began guiding Harry through the halls. He tried harder to remember the way this time because he didn’t want to keep calling on elves to guide him. He would learn it eventually he sighed to himself when Tobi finally stopped before the doors to the dining room. “Thank you, Tobi.” The elf bowed and disappeared. Taking a deep breath, Harry pushed through the doors to eat another meal with his enemy turned ally.

Marvolo sat at the head of the table as he had done last night, looking very much the same only with new robes. “Good morning, Harry,” the man greeted politely.

“Morning, Marvolo,” Harry managed to get out before taking the seat directly across for the man once more. The food arrived and Harry filled his plate with eggs, mushrooms, tomatoes, and toast, before pouring himself a cup of tea.

“I trust you slept well?”

Harry gave a nod, eyeing the man across from him who was currently adding three scoops of sugar to his morning tea. It was such a human action that Harry was momentarily frozen.

“What’s up with this?” Harry finally blurted out.

“I beg your pardon?” Marvolo questioned innocently, a perfect eyebrow raised.

“This!” Harry cried out. “All the bloody politeness and the helpfulness last night. I know we swore to not hurt each other and we are working as allies now, but that doesn’t mean you have to talk to me or be polite.”

The man took a sip from his tea as he stared at Harry across the table. “Let’s just say it does not benefit me to continue with our previous aggression towards each other.”

“What?”

“Tell me, Harry. You claimed yesterday that you did not feel hatred towards me, in fact, it seems that Dumbledore has far surpassed my previous standing on your Hate List. So if you are able to stop hating me. Why am I not allowed to?”

“Because you’re the Dark Lord? I’ve thwarted your attempts on my life many times and I banished you into a spirit form for years. I’ve done far more things against you than you to me.”

“So facing a worthy opponent and receiving losses is justifiable to hate?”

Harry chewed his lip as he stared at the man who was a Dark Lord. “No?”

“Exactly. Far from hating you, Harry. I’ve always held great respect for your person. You are one of the very few to face me without fear, one of the few who challenges me. I may have faced losses against you in our previous encounters, but that does not negate the respect shown for a worthy opponent.” Harry swallowed. _Voldemort didn’t hate him? Voldemort...respected...him...what?_ “And as you pointed out, we are allies now. Why should I hate an ally?”

The damn man was right, of course. His words voicing perfectly reasoned logic. It just baffled Harry at the ease of this whole thing. “So that’s just it? We strike a deal and ‘poof’ no more hatred?”

“Not exactly. I do believe that there will always be an amount of animosity between two people such as ourselves, Harry. We are far too similar for there not to be discord.” Harry wanted to protest this point but Marvolo continued before he could open his mouth. “But now that certain elements present in our previous encounters have been removed, I believe we can work towards a quite amicable relationship. A partnership perhaps.”

So that was it then. Voldemort still wanted Harry on his side but apparently not as a minion...but as a partner? Harry wasn’t sure if he could believe that. Partnership and equality weren’t how Voldemort worked. Harry stared at the man across from him. A man who was currently Marvolo. Voldemort didn’t play with others, but maybe Marvolo did?

His thoughts spinning, Harry brushed off those thoughts. It didn’t matter anyway. This was just temporary. “What elements have been removed?” He asked instead before taking a bite of his toast.

“Dumbledore's manipulations and a certain life or death atmosphere.”

Harry snorted slightly at that. Yes, all of their other encounters Harry had been fighting for his life. Maybe that was why sharing a meal was making him so tense? He kept expecting spellfire.

“Technically speaking, Dumbledore’s manipulations are still present,” Harry commented with a chuckle as he took a sip of his tea. “I mean, that is why I came here after all.”

A smirk flickered on the human lips of the Dark Lord. “Very true.”

They continued their breakfast in a pleasant silence that Harry still wasn’t sure how to handle. Yeah sure, Voldemort didn’t hate him and that he was wanting to, Harry supposed, _entice_ him to the Dark side completely by being a genial and polite host. But Harry doubted he would ever fully relax, especially when he was still wandless.

“Do you still intend on visiting Gringotts today?” Marvolo asked as they were finishing the last sip of their tea while the elves cleared the dishes.

“Yes. I don’t see the point in waiting much longer. I was hoping to leave almost immediately,” Harry said, suddenly nervous that Marvolo might turn Voldemort and forbid him from leaving. Technically Harry was under the man's protection and he might exercise that control by not letting him leave. Even if it had been his idea in the first place.

Harry’s fretful worries proved needless though as Marvolo continued. “Quite right. You still do not have your wand, do you?” Harry shook his head, it had not even been a full day yet and he hadn’t been able to give Dobby much to go on after all. “I have a spare that I will request you take with you. It would not do to be relying solely on your untrained gifts. In addition, I require you to wear this.” The man pulled out a simple silver chain necklace with three snakes meshed into a circle as the pendant and actually stood up and walked around the table to where Harry sat, holding the necklace out to him. “It is an emergency portkey should you require a fast retreat. Otherwise, Tobi should be able to take you there and back. I should inform you that during your stay here, Tobi will be your personal elf.”

“Thanks,” Harry said hesitantly as he accepted the necklace and placed it around his neck. A portkey sounded reasonable and pretty handy. And the chain was simple enough to not draw attention and the pendant was low enough to be covered by his robes.

“The activation phrase is ‘ _Safety_ ’.” Harry tried not to react to the obvious Parseltongue and just nodded and nervously glanced up at the man who was still standing before him only to realize that he was being handed a wand. It was pretty nondescript brown and plain, Harry certainly didn’t get any sort of rush of connection when he grabbed it but anything was better than nothing. He also didn’t want to know how Marvolo came by the wand either.

“And you should know that I do have a personal elf. I don’t need to detract from Tobi’s regular duties,” he said mainly to prove that he wasn’t some mindless robot just taking things as they were and that he could still protest some of the requests.

“You are his duties now. And it is of no concern of mine if you have elves of your own. You requested protection and this is my attempt to comply.”

Harry sighed and just nodded, he was pretty sure that Marvolo was taking ‘protection’ a little to literally and seemed to actually be enjoying the chance to do so, but Harry really wasn’t in a position to argue. “Right, thanks then.” Merlin, thanking this man was messing with his mind. Him being in his Marvolo form was helping and it would no doubt mess with his mind to a permanent extent over the progression of this temporary business relationship. “Anyway, I guess I’ll be heading out then,” Harry said, standing. Since Marvolo had still been standing by his seat the movement brought them oddly close and it annoyed Harry that the man was taller than him.

Marvolo simply gave a regal nod of his head. “Of course. And when you return we can discuss what you have learned and I will give you a proper tour.”

Suddenly feeling desperate to be out of the man's presence, Harry just nodded before all but bolting out of the room, taking deep breaths when he had made it a few hallways away. Groaning in frustration at struggling to deal with the whirlwind that was his life, Harry kicked at the nearby wall. Gritting his teeth at the pain in his foot but he took solace in the distraction, something else to focus on for the moment. Taking another deep breath, he smoothed out his robes and called for Tobi.

“Master Death Master be calling for Tobi?” The little elf asked eagerly.

“Yes, Tobi. I need to go to Gringotts. Can you take me there?”

“Oh yes, Master Death Master. Tobi is being most honored.”

“Thanks, Tobi. Let’s be off then.” Harry said kindly. Tobi just nodded and grabbed hold of Harry’s outstretched hand before the two were off. It was just as bad as wizard apparition, Harry decided when they landed at the front steps of the wizard bank. Luckily it was early morning and so very few people were in the streets, most of the shops were only just opening. Harry spotted the twins shop, finally able to take in front of it and couldn’t help but smirk at the bright colors. He wondered if he could risk talking with them. Sighing, he turned away from the orange monstrosity and faced the cool white marble of the bank. “Thank you, Tobi. I will call for you when I need to return.” The elf bowed and disappeared once more.

Taking deep breaths, Harry forced his head high and strode into the bank with all the confidence that he could fake. The bank was already open but most of the tellers were free. Striding forward to the nearest one, Harry cleared his throat to gain attention.

“Yes?” The goblin drawled, not even looking up.

“I request entrance into my family vaults and wish to prove rights over the Peverell vaults,” Harry stated as calmly as he could but he knew his voice shook slightly. The goblin froze and raised its head. There was a moment of silence as the goblin took in Harry’s appearance and Harry watched the goblin's eyes flicker to the lightning scar stretching and reaching across his forehead easily visible with the mess of hair pulled back.

“And what gives you rights to the Peverell vaults?”

“I have come into my magical inheritance as a Necromancer,” Harry replied nervously though he kept his voice low so as not to attract the attention of the few other customers. He hoped the goblin wouldn’t demand a demonstration. Harry wasn’t sure if he’d be able to.

The goblin was silent though its eyes had widened a fraction at the statement. “Sliphook!” The goblin finally shouted and another goblin came forward. “Take Mr. Potter to one of our private rooms and gather Griphook, Riptooth, and Bloodtoe to join him.”

The goblin, Sliphook, only nodded and with barely a glance at Harry turned and walked down one of the offshoot hallways and nervously Harry followed. He was ushered into a decent sized office room with a large desk and stiff chairs on either side of it. Harry was the only one there yet and so nervously he took his seat and waited for the three goblins.

After what felt like years, the door opened again and three goblins came forward each with papers in their hands. They took seats on the other side of the desk and they all turned their attention to Harry. Harry recognized Griphook from his first trip to the bank but the other two were strangers and none of the three looked friendly. Harry tried not to fidget with his hands under the penetrating stares.

“Welcome, Mr. Potter. I am Griphook, Head of the Potter Accounts.”

“I am Riptooth, Head of the Black Accounts.”

“I am Bloodtoe, Head of the Peverell Accounts.”

Harry gave a nod to each of the goblins but frowned slightly. “Thank you all for meeting with me but, Riptooth, why are you here? I don’t have a connection to the Black family.”

The goblins all scowled at this and exchanged glances and harsh words that must have been Gobbledegook. “Your godfather was Sirius Orion Black, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Mr. Potter, you were Lord Blacks heir from the moment he claimed you as his godson. As your grandmother was born a Black, Magic accepted this claim.” Harry stared in shock at the goblins.

“What? My grandmother was a Black? Wait, Sirius was a Lord? I thought he was disowned.”

His words did not seem to please the goblins but Riptooth still answered. “The late Lord Blacks mother attempted a disowning but it was not completed. So, the late Lord Black kept his title however unknowingly.” Harry still sat there numbly.

“Right. So I was Sirius’ heir?” The goblins nodded. “Am I the Potter Heir too?”

“Of course,” Griphook said with a frown. “You are the last Potter descendant. Your father passed before he could claim the title of Lord but you are the Heir nonetheless.” Harry tried to process all of the information.

“Mr. Potter,” the third goblin, Bloodtoe, spoke and Harry looked over at him. “You claimed you had your magical inheritance in Necromancy.”

Harry nodded numbly. “Yes, I have the mark if you wish to see it?” The goblins all nodded and so Harry undid the top half of his robes and pulled the fabric aside for the goblins eager eyes. Bloodtoe, in particular, seemed to be salivating at the sight. Nervously, Harry let the fabric fall back into place and redid his robes.

“Mr. Potter,” Griphook continued, “by coming into your magical inheritance, Magic recognizes you as an adult in all matters. Given this, you can claim your Lordships today, if you wish.”

“What would this do?”

“You would have access to all Family Vaults and properties. You could start investing further if you had the interest to expand your vaults. You would have access to Wills as well. And you would have seats on the Wizengamot.”

Harry thought it over. He needed access to the Family Vaults, especially the Peverell ones if he wanted to learn. Having extra properties sounded nice too as did having seats on the Wizengamot. “Access to Wills? Like my parents and Sirius’ Wills?” The goblins nodded. That settled it for Harry. “Then yes, I will take my Lordships today.”

The goblins each pushed forward identical boxes. “In each of these boxes is the Lordship ring. Place it on your finger and then they will be resized to fit and remain on your fingers. If not then we can try the Heir ring, as it might be that there is an older, more qualified wizard for the Lord position. However, given the families, this is doubtful,” Griphook explained.

“So I just put the rings on and I become Lord?”

“If Magic accepts and approves,” Bloodtoe amended. “Though it seems unlikely that you will be denied.”

Harry stared at the three boxes, they were rectangular in shape with a curved top. Harry opened the one in front of Griphook first. The Potter ring, of this one he was the least nervous about trying. He was the last Potter after all and if it failed then that meant there might be another Potter out there. The ring was a tarnished gold with an engraved shield for the setting with small rubies strung together to outline the shield. Harry reached out and felt the surprisingly warm metal in his fingers. Nervously, Harry slipped it onto his right-hand ring finger. The ring resized and flashed immediately with golden light and Harry smiled sadly as he looked at it, he really was the only Potter left.

Forcing himself not to get lost in his thoughts Harry turned to the Black ring. “This ring can either go on your index or middle finger and the Peverell ring will go on whichever one is left,” Riptooth explained without prompting.

He opened the box and gazed at the titanium ring with ‘Toujours Pur’ engraved along the band in black script. Harry slid the Black ring onto his index finger and there was a moment of breathless waiting before the titanium shifted to fit his thin fingers and a silver pulse of magic solidified the bond. Licking his lips, Harry pulled the final box closer. The Peverells, a family that was thought to have died out until now. If he claimed the Lordship the family would be brought back. If the ring accepted him he’d have access to possible Necromancy information.

Harry pulled out the ring and observed it for a moment. It was black onyx with part of the mark on Harry’s chest engraved in the setting in gold. It was only the triangle holding the smaller circle and line dividing them that Harry was now aware referred to the Deathly Hallows of legend. Harry stared at it a moment longer before taking a breath and pushing it onto his middle finger. There was a longer wait than with the Black ring but then this ring also flared brightly as it resized itself to fit permanently on his finger. Harry felt a weight fall upon his shoulders as he stared at the three ornate rings adorning his right hand. Swallowing thickly, he looked up at the goblins and saw their eager faces.

“Congratulations Lord Potter, now, let us get to proper business. These are the vault account documentation of all that items in each of the vaults, they are self-updating,” Griphook said pushing forward a large bound book, followed closely by similar books pushed up by Riptooth and Bloodtoe. Harry tried not to gape too openly at the three books but just accepted them.

“Is it safe to shrink them?” He asked, flipping open the Peverell book and skimming the ‘Items’ page. Harry felt excitement tremble in his stomach as he spotted ‘Journals’ listed. He had caught a glimpse of the money and had to refrain from choking at the absurdly high number. He had a feeling the Black and Potter Vaults would have a similar number.

“Yes, quite safe, Lord Peverel. Also, these pouches are directly connected to their corresponding vaults so you will no longer need to continuously come in to withdraw money. Just pull from whichever pouch you wish,” Bloodtoe said as the three goblins handed over simple leather pouches with the corresponding insignia on each pouch front with drawstring closings. Harry nodded again and accepted them, these were at least easier to carry.

“Now, as for properties,” Griphook continued. “Sadly, the Potter Manor and the Cottage in Godric’s Hollow were both destroyed during the last war.” Harry deflated at these words. “Any artifacts of importance that could be saved are now in the Potter Vault whenever you wish to check it out. There are also a few homes overseas but all simple vacation homes.”

“As for the Blacks, the Ancestral Home is known as Grimmauld Place and is owned by you, as well as one house elf by the name of Kreacher. There are also some vacation homes spread across the world but that is the only home located in Magical Britain.”

“Wait, I own Grimmauld Place now and Kreacher?”

“Yes, you are Lord Black,” Riptooth replied.

“Is it possible to ban certain people from using it?”

“Yes, quite easily. But why do you feel the need?” Riptooth questioned.

“While my godfather lived it was being used as Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. When I came into my magical inheritance certain members of this organization, led by Albus Dumbledore, deemed me too Dark and proceeded to keep me prisoner in the basement while they tried to torture the Necromancy out of me. I want them all out.”

Bloodtoe gasped, and the reaction surprised Harry, he hadn’t seen a goblin gasp before. “They tortured a Child of Death for the Blessing given!” Harry blinked but nodded. Another new title to add to the list it seemed: Necromancer, Death Master and now Child of Death. Interesting. “It is the most heinous of offenses. We can assist you in pressing charges if you so chose it.”

“If you had claimed your Black Lordship already such harm could not have befallen you within your own house,” Riptooth added. He and Griphook also looked furious at the news of his torture but not as much as Bloodtoe, probably because they weren’t privy to possible Peverell secrets.

“I’ll consider it. If I press charges then my inheritance is brought to light and I’m not sure if I’m ready for that yet.”

“Of course, Lord Peverell,” Bloodtoe said nodding his head.

“All occupants shall be removed from the premises, Lord Black,” Riptooth assured him.

“You called me a Child of Death. What do the goblins know of Necromancy?” Harry asked cautiously. “I ask only because I know next to nothing. Wizards consider Necromancers the Darkest of the Dark but when I spoke with some House Elves they said that to them we were Death Masters and were a balance and brought justice.”

The goblins looked at each other before Bloodtoe spoke again. “Lord Peverell, to the goblins, to be a Child of Death is a great honor and a horrendous responsibility. The goblins have been around for a long time and our memories are far stronger than a human. The eldest of us were born shortly after the times when the Peverell brothers, who were the last known Necromancers, graced the earth. They still tell tales of their great deeds passed from their elders who lived through that time. Deaths Children were jury, judge and executioner, they played neither side but the side of Death and alternately Life. They were feared and respected by all Magical Beings.”

Harry listened to these words, again far different than the stories wizards told and closer to what Mimsy spoke of. “Thank you,” Harry said graciously with a slight bow of his head. “Also, thank you for assisting me in obtaining my Lordships. I’m sure I shall have many questions. Will it be acceptable for me to seek answers to my questions from you in the future?”

“Of course, Lord Potter,” Griphook answered. “We are your Account Managers, it is our duty to keep you fully informed and guide you in your money making expenditures.”

“Great. Now, I would really like to visit the Peverell Vault right now and take some of the journals with me. I plan on visiting the Potter and Black Vaults individually as well but at a different time. But before we part, can I hear my parents and godfathers Wills?”

“We shall send in a request for the Wills, Lord Black. They should be available upon your return. If there was a Will to begin with, it is possible that one was never written,” Riptooth said as the three goblins stood. Harry followed suit.

Trying to recall what to do now. Going with what felt right, Harry gave a bow to the three goblins. “Thank you again for your assistance in these matters, I appreciate it greatly.” The three goblins returned his bow.

“Lord Peverell, you are Deaths Child. Gringotts is honored to be of assistance,” Bloodtoe responded. “Come, I shall guide you to your Vault.” Bloodtoe then led Harry out of the office and down a series of hallways before reaching the familiar rollercoaster contraption. The two were silent as they took their seats in the cart and then Bloodtoe started them down the track. It was just as unsettlingly fast as it had been when he was eleven but Harry could enjoy the speed of it, it made him miss his Firebolt.

They went far deeper than where his Trust Vault was at, Harry realized as he watched the cart zip past more and more curves and jolt down steeper dives. By the time they stopped Harrys’ hair was free from the band and fully windswept, the torches that provided light looked like orange pinpoints floating against the darkness. “Lord Peverell,” Bloodtoe grunted, Harry twisted to see that the goblin had already gotten out and was waiting before a smooth portion of the wall's surface. Scrambling out, Harry stood beside the goblin and eyed the smooth wall. “Place the ring head here,” the goblin continued. Harry glanced down and saw that Bloodtoe had peeled a small palm-sized section of the formerly smooth surface away revealing a hole the size of his ring.

Harry pressed the Deathly Hallows emblem on the ring into the hole and tensed when the wall then split down the center and began to separate. It didn’t separate by much, but it was enough for Harry to follow Bloodtoe through with his shoulders brushing the stone on each side. Harry gasped at the sight that he was led to. It was a monstrous cave with glittering jewels and mountains of gold filling the entire back half to the point where Harry wasn’t actually sure how far the cave stretched. However, he wasn’t here for gold. Tearing his eyes from the glittering mounds, Harry searched the rest of the cave. Luckily there were torches lit that lightened the darker recesses and that’s when Harry saw it. A bookshelf and desk tucked into one of the darker alcoves filled with parchment and bound journals. Harry rushed over and reverently hovered his hands over the documents afraid to touch them and cause them to disappear.

“These are all documents left by the Peverells, there should be plenty of information about Necromancy in them,” Bloodtoe stated, walking over. “However, only Necromancers can read them.”

“I want to take it all with me. I need to learn all that I can and I’d like to do it at my own pace,” Harry said, not taking his eyes off the journals lining the shelves.

“Very well, Lord Peverell. It all belongs to you, you are free to take or leave what you wish. This might be of use to you,” the goblin replied. Harry turned to see that the goblin was holding an enlarged trunk.

“Yes, thank you, Bloodtoe.” Harry placed the trunk on the ground and then delicately began removing each of the journals off of the shelves and placing them gently into the trunk. Once the journals were placed, Harry draped the loose parchment leaves over the top before shutting and locking the trunk. Casting one more glance over the items in the cave, Harry nodded to himself. He would come back to explore after he read the journals.

In silence, Bloodtoe led Harry back to the cart and they began their speedy ascent upwards. Harry clutched at the chest like the lifeline it was. He wouldn’t be ignorant about his own heritage and his own inheritance any longer. He wasn’t some helpless boy just trying to wing it to get by. He was finally taking control of his life and the documents in the trunk were only the next step.

The journey to the surface seemed much quicker than to the vault but Harry didn’t bother questioning it. Thanking Bloodtoe he saw that Griphook and Riptooth were standing on the platform waiting. “Did you find their Wills?” Harry asked hopefully.

Both goblins shook their heads in the negative. “Our apologies, Lord Potter. It seemed that if your parents and godfather did have Wills they were not given to us for keeping. It was common during this past war that parents passed without being able to write a Will and given the fugitive status of your godfather, he was unable to venture forth to place a Will here for safekeeping. In these instances, everything simply goes to the descendants, which would be yourself.”

Harry tried not to show how crushed he was by this news. He hadn’t wanted the Wills to see what he had been left. He had wanted them as another connection to his parents and Sirius. To read their words as they spoke to him.

“Thank you again for your help today, and I hope all of our future encounters are just as fruitful,” Harry said politely giving another bow. The goblins gave a returned bow before leaving him to the banks' lobby. It was far busier now than when he had arrived and Harry nervously scanned the crowd for potential threats. He gripped the unfamiliar wand nervously, glad that he had something if he needed it. The pendant portkey on his chest felt cold as his nerves heated his skin. Swallowing, Harry ducked his head and walked as quickly as he could out of the bank. Once outside, he saw that the Alley was just as crowded if not more so than inside the bank. Sadly, Harry realized that he wouldn’t be able to visit the twins. There was no way he’d be able to make it through the crowd without being noticed, especially with how nicely he was dressed.

“Tobi!” Harry called, ducking behind one of the gigantic marble pillars. The elf popped in front of him almost immediately. “Take me back, Tobi.”


	8. Replaceable?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry returns to the manor after his Gringotts meeting and starts to try and read the journals. Emotions are heightened and shouting is had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything is J.K. Rowlings. I only claim the plot. Everything else is hers, all the characters and the magic, all of it. Please let me know what you think though, I encourage feedback of all kinds, just be nice about it!
> 
> So, I'm actually uploading this after it was supposed to be placed. I was rereading it and realized the jump between Gringotts and then Hermione's viewpoint of Dumbledore meeting with them that something was missing that I knew I had written. I did write it but somehow had deleted it before posting. I had to sort through my trash to find it. I don't know why this happened but here we are. I hope this makes some things make more sense now.

Replaceable?

Tobi had apparated them to what Harry guessed was the main entrance and Harry glanced around the tall-ceilinged room. It was dark wood and green, a common theme for the house he was noticing. “Master is being requesting you see him as soon as you be returning,” Tobi informed him. 

“Right, can you take me to him?” Harry asked kindly to the little elf. 

“Yes, Master Death Master.”

And so the winding hall maze ensued once more. It really was ridiculous how confusing this place was. Why did there have to be so many halls and rooms there was only one person living in it! Well...two now…

Finally, Tobi stopped in front of an impressively solid-looking door with a silver handle. “This is being Masters study. Master is being having a lock on it in Masters language though.”

“Right, thank you, Tobi.” Tobi bowed and disappeared again. Alone, Harry frowned at the door. Apparently, the man wanted to talk to him but then hid away behind a door that only he could open? That didn’t sound right. And knowing Voldemort the door would curse him or something if he tried to just open it. Would he get cursed if he just knocked? Harry wasn’t keen to risk it. Should he shout? Wait...Masters language...Harry knew that Marvolo was an intelligent man and so it stood to reason that he knew multiple languages, but who was to say that others wouldn’t also know that language? No, there was only one language that Harry was certain only Marvolo would think to use as he was the only one known to speak it. Well only him and Harry. 

Staring at the silver handle Harry realized that it was textured like snakeskin. Trying to visualize a snake in his mind Harry stared intently at the handle. “ _ Open _ .” He tried and heard a click. Harry could have almost laughed at the simplicity of it. Cautiously, Harry reached out to grab the handle and twisted it. Nothing happened and so Harry continued into the study.

“Did you not consider knocking as an appropriate request for entry?” The smooth voice questioned him as soon as he finished shutting the study door behind him. Harry turned back to see Marvolo sitting behind a desk filled with papers, it all looked incredibly mundane. There was a sofa off to the side with a simple coffee table in front of it and there were bookshelves lining the walls except for a large window that spread across the wall directly to the left of Harry and opposite the side that the couch and coffee table sat. The window gave a view of some beautiful gardens.

“Wasn’t sure if I’d get cursed for touching the door or not,” Harry shrugged, inviting himself to take a seat on the couch, placing the trunk at his side delicately but not letting go of the handle. 

“So you thought just breaking through the wards would be the better alternative?”

“Not my fault you chose such a simple password,” Harry smirked.

“So it seems. That will be remedied, of course, this is my private study and I will not have you barging in at your leisure.”

“No worries about that. I was told you requested to see me which is why I’m here, otherwise I’d be in my room or the library.”

Red eyes flicked once again to the trunk and Harry tightened his grip on the handle reflexively. “I take it your venture to Gringotts was successful?”

“Yes, more than I’d expected,” Harry mused before raising his right hand and showing the three ornate Lordship rings decorating his fingers. He was rather surprised that they didn’t feel heavy or weigh his hand down, despite the warmth the metal gave off Harry could almost forget he was wearing them. 

“You claimed your Lordship...three of them,” Marvolo murmured, eyes widening slightly. “I wasn’t aware you had claims to more than one.” The man's eyes were distant and his tone hard, Harry guessed that some of the man's spies were going to be in pain later. 

“Me neither. Didn’t even know about the Potter one. But yeah, I’m now Lord Potter-Black-Peverell. My magical inheritance pretty much emancipated me.”

“How fortunate,” Marvolo commented with a smooth elegance that made Harry slightly envious. 

“Yeah. So I got control of all the properties too. Sadly the Potter homes in Britain were destroyed,” Harry continued with a glare that didn’t seem to at all phase the man responsible. “There are some out of the country for vacation homes, same as the Blacks. Though I now own the Headquarters for the Order, so of course I had them all kicked out.” Marvolo smirked and his eyes glinted but he didn’t comment. “I’m not actually sure if there are any Peverell properties, we got distracted. But I’ll check the account books. The goblins also mentioned that given my Lordships and my suffering that occurred in my own home, I can press charges against Dumbledore and his helpers.”

“It is a good way to start your revenge, by dismantling his reputation.”

“Yeah, I thought about that. But to do so I’d have to come out with being a Necromancer and I don’t think I’m ready for the whole world to know yet.”

Marvolo inclined his head in understanding. “Of course, my Death Eaters will be keeping silent on your inheritance as well.” Harry just nodded. He felt incredibly stiff trying to remain cordial and subconsciously trying to match the grace and elegance that Marvolo exuded. “May I inquire about the trunk?”

“It contains all of the journals and documents that I could find in the Peverell vaults. However, Bloodtoe mentioned only a Necromancer could read them,” Harry added when he saw the look of greed rising in those red orbs. The look was promptly extinguished at the mention of the requirements and Harry thought that if Marvolo was a lesser man he’d be pouting right now. “Was there anything else?”

Marvolo shook his head, still casting longing glances at the trunk. “No, however dinner will be at six and if you should feel hungry call for Tobi to bring you a late lunch.”

Harry nodded, regripped the trunk handle, and swiftly left the office. Once far enough away, Harry let out a breath and felt the tension ease from his shoulders. “Tobi,” he called. “Can you lead me to the library?” He asked once the elf appeared. 

“Of course Master Death Master,” the elf squeaked and guided Harry through the halls to the large library. Once there, Harry claimed the table and opened the trunk on it. Harry began pulling out the loose documents and tried to follow what was written but it was too stained and faded but he guessed by the scratched diagrams it was some complex theory regarding advanced Necromancy. Not at all ready for that, Harry put them to the side and pulled out the books. There turned out to be two types of books: personal journals numbered one through twenty and what looked like twelve guide books or textbooks, all handwritten. 

Feeling out of his depth as he stared at the two stacks he had made, Harry tried to decide which one to start with. Glancing through the instructional books, Harry skimmed the titles since those were the least faded and easiest to read, and even then only a few of the titles were still legible: ‘Inferi: Creation and Destruction’, ‘Deaths Creatures: Thestrals, Ghosts, Dementors, Lethifolds’, ‘The Art of Claiming a Life’, ‘The Art of Giving a Life’, ‘Steps for Proper Judgement and Burial’, ‘Communing with the Dead’, ‘Runes and Rituals’.

His heart thudded faster at reading the titles, they all sounded fascinating. Licking his lips, his fingers hovered over the leather-bound books before reminding himself that he needed to start at the beginning and he needed answers first. Turning to the stack of journals, he glanced at their covers but aside from the inscribed number on the spine there was no other markings. Cracking journal number sixteen to the inside cover, Harry saw what must have been a name in the top left-hand side but it was too faded to read properly. Glancing at the pages, Harry saw to his dismay that those words were also far too faded to read. He could identify a few letters but nothing else. 

Slightly panicked, Harry looked into each of the journals and all showed the same result. The centuries shoved in a Gringotts vault had not helped the preservation of the ink. Feeling his mounting dismay, Harry checked the instructional books but the same thing. Aside from those few titles, nothing else could be identified. 

Slumping over in his chair, he sighed. His gut was telling him that these journals would contain his answers. These were his ancestors, they would provide the answers but he couldn’t read any of them! Growling in frustration, Harry pulled at his hair. He wished Hermione was here, she would know the spell to freshen the ink. But she wasn’t. She and Ron and Ginny and the twins were still stuck under Dumbledore’s thumb. He felt a twinge of guilt at realizing how worried they must all be about him, having not heard from him since yesterday morning when the twins pushed him through the wall. 

Since he couldn’t read the journals at the moment, he tried to remain productive to keep his temper in check and pulled some parchment towards him to begin writing out letters. It would give him a distraction for his rising temper. The letters were short and so didn’t take long to write out. Finishing he realized that he still didn’t have Hedwig and so couldn’t mail the letters he had written. And on top of that, he didn’t even know where they were now since they should have all been kicked out of Grimmauld...wait! 

“Kreacher!” Harry called out into the empty library. Half a second later the decrepit elf was before him and already mumbling about his unworthiness. “Listen here, Kreacher,” Harry said sternly. “I will not tolerate those insulting comments towards myself or my friends. Understand?”

The elfs’ lips quivered as if itching to mutter something about Mudbloods and Blood Traitors. “Of course, Master,” the elf finally sneered.

“Alright, Kreacher,” Harry continued deciding to play on the elf’s twisted values a bit. “Things have changed since you last saw me. I am now Lord Potter-Black-Peverell,” he began holding up his right hand to flash the rings. The deranged elfs’ eyes widened and it looked like his throat convulsed. “In addition, I’ve had my magical inheritance,” Harry continued, pulling his robe down again. “I am now a Necromancer.”

“Master Lord Black is a Death Master?” Kreacher questioned, the reverence in the tone sent unpleasant shivers down Harry’s spine. 

“Yes, I am. So like I said, things are changing. You are my elf and I will be trusting you with personal matters. Because of this, I forbid you any contact or communication of any kind with any other member of the Black Family, specifically Bellatrix Lestrange and Narcissa Malfoy. Do you understand?”

The elf nodded, strangely eager. “Master Lord Black will be bringing the Noble House of Black to its greatness. Kreacher is being honored to obey and serve.”

Harry swallowed, a little uncomfortable. “Great, I’m glad we’ve come to this understanding. Dobby!” Dobby appeared looking surprisingly ashamed and fearful. “Dobby, this is Kreacher. Kreacher, Dobby. You two are my elves and I expect you to work together.” The elves bobbed their heads and Dobby avoided his eyes. Harry frowned slightly. It was the most unDobbyish behavior he had ever witnessed. “Right,” he continued. “So first things first. Kreacher, has the Order been removed yet?”

“Yes, Master Lord Black, the disgusting traitors and those unworthy to grace the Noble House of Black are being gone.”

“Good. Dobby, how goes the search for my things?”

That seemed to be the poor elfs’ tipping point because the tiny creature let out a wail and collapsed on the floor. “Dobby is being sorry Great Master Harry Potter! Dobby is being searching the muggle house and arrived just as the muggles be burning everything! Dobby is being able to save the Cloak and some of the Map, but Dobby is not being able to save the Great Master Harry Potter's trunk or broom or album.” Dobby wept large fat tears that were forming a puddle on the library carpet. Pulling out the Invisibility Cloak and Map from somewhere, the elf handed them to Harry while continuing to berate himself. Harry felt the silky airiness of the Cloak and felt a sense of relief. But then he saw the Map, it was burnt along the edges and there were a few chunks missing. His heart clenched at the sight, and on top of that his album and his Firebolt were ash now too. He wasn’t overly concerned about his trunk. His heart ached the more he looked at the charred parchment which apparently unraveled the charms placed on it because the map was showing visibly now. 

“It wasn’t your fault Dobby,” he whispered hoarsely, tightening his grip on his cloak and the ruined Map. The tiny elf looked up at him from his curled up ball on the floor and blinked up at him through watery tennis ball green eyes. “Thank you for saving my Cloak and Map. What about my wand and Hedwig?”

“The Great Master Harry Potters’ birdie is being escaped during the fire. Dobby is being still searching for the Great Master Harry Potter’s wand.” 

The relief at knowing Hedwig had escaped was intense and Harry felt lighter knowing his dear owl would be finding him soon because he didn’t doubt her ability to track him down. “Alright,” he cleared his throat. He had to focus. “Kreacher, I want you to help Dobby find my wand. Grimmauld is probably your best bet, especially knowing that they all got kicked out without warning. If it is not there, check the Burrow or Dumbledores’ office and then all of the homes of the Order members. It’s got to be somewhere. Also, I want you to get Grimmauld Place in tip-top shape. Make it a worthy home once again. I will be using it as a safe house for those still loyal to me. Understand?”

The two elves nodded and Harry thought he saw Kreachers’ eyes gleam with pride at the thought of the Blacks’ returning to their rightful place.

“And the last thing, I want you to deliver these letters. Make sure that you are not seen by anyone and that they are alone when you deliver them. Understand?”

“Yes, Master Lord Black.” “Yes, Great Master Harry Potter.”

“Great, here are the letters. Deliver them, find my wand and restore Grimmauld Place.”

The elves accepted the letters, bowed and disappeared. Alone again, Harry sighed and hoped his wand was found and his friends were still with him and that Hedwig arrived soon. Harry had written longer letters to Neville and Luna to catch them up to speed on everything and hoped that by allying with Voldemort, however temporary, didn’t push Neville’s loyalties to far. 

Glancing back at the burned Map and Cloak still in his hands, he felt a lump forming in his throat and turned to face the journals and wanted to scream as the frustration mounted higher once more, knowing the answers were within reach but being unable to read them.

Harry felt the hot flames of his frustration start to rise higher and mix with his heartache at losing the few precious possessions he had from his family. His hands felt shaky and he just wanted to scream. He was sure there was a spell to fix all of this. The spell might even be in this library but Harry didn’t know how it was organized or where to even begin searching and he didn’t want to come across the Dark Arts books that were no doubt on these shelves. 

“Master Death Master!” Tobi squeaked, appearing beside him. Harry startled, realizing he had been clenching his jaw and fingering the foreign wand looking for a release for his pent up emotions. 

“Yes, Tobi?” He asked after a few calming breaths. 

“It is being dinner, Master Death Master.”

“Right, can you lead me there and take this trunk up to my room?” Harry asked, standing and repacking the trunk once more. 

“Yes, Master Death Master,” Tobi said accepting the trunk and disappearing and reappearing within seconds. “Come, Master Death Master.”

Again, Harry tried memorizing the way to the dining room but knew he would still need help for another day or two. Marvolo was already seated and waiting. Harry took his seat without a word and the silence continued as the food was brought out and their plates filled. It was pasta and it was delicious, Harry thought absently as he began to eat. 

“So, how have your pursuits been going?” Marvolo questioned when they were alone once more.

Harry frowned, looking at the pasta as he twirled his fork in the red sauce, quickly losing his appetite. He knew Marvolo would know the spell he needed to freshen the ink to read the journals. But the thought of asking the man for help,  _ again _ , just turned his stomach.

“Was there something wrong?” Marvolo pushed. “Due to our agreement, I am to help you learn your inheritance. So if there is something wrong, I need to be made aware to further assist you.”

The tone was even and controlled but Harry knew that in addition to wanting to honor their agreement, Marvolo hated not knowing things. Hated knowing that there was information he was not privy to. Stonily, Harry lifted his gaze to meet the picturesque man across from him. He needed to learn, Harry reminded himself. It was becoming his mantra it seemed. So taking a breath and unclenching his jaw, he nodded. 

“The ink in all of the books are very faded. So I’m not able to read them well. Do you know a spell to freshen the ink?”

“Oh yes, it is quite easy. I’ll teach you after dinner.” Harry sighed and nodded. Trying not to remain so sullen, he stabbed at the pasta and brought it to his mouth. They ate in silence for only a few more minutes before Marvolo spoke again. He was surprisingly chatty tonight, Harry mused. “Have you been able to retrieve any of your things?”

“Not all of them yet,” he replied stiffly, feeling his earlier emotions starting to flare once again and trying very hard to not unleash his temper and ruin things. 

“Only some of them?”

Grinding his teeth, Harry nodded. “My relatives were apparently burning everything when my elf arrived. My owl managed to escape but my school trunk, Firebolt and photo album were all destroyed and my wand is still missing.”

“I see. Luckily it was all replaceable items.”

Harry’s head snapped up harshly to glare at the man across the table, who looked admittedly surprised by that reaction and the amount of fury building in Harry’s eyes. “Replaceable?” he hissed. “Fucking replaceable!” His hands were shaking as he clenched them into tight fists. “My school shit sure it’s  _ replaceable _ . But my Firebolt was a gift from Sirius, who is now dead! It was my last connection to my Godfather. And my photo album was another gift, filled with pictures of my parents. Parents I don’t remember! Parents that I only see when a Dementor gets too close and then I only get to see them being killed by YOU!” Harry screamed, not realizing he had stood at some point. “So don’t fucking call that replaceable!” Not stopping to think but just knowing that he had to get out. Harry tore out of the room. He continued running through the halls, becoming more and more lost. “Tobi! Take me to a Dueling Room or somewhere I can destroy things,” he shouted, his mind clouded with a red hazy fog. The elf just nodded, somehow guessing it best not to speak and lead Harry two halls over. 

It was a Dueling Room. There were scores of dummies lining the walls. Shrugging out of his outer robes and rolling up his sleeves. Harry began firing spell after spell. Blasting curse after cutting curse, feeling his magic singing with the adrenaline coursing through him. He didn’t even need to speak. Every time a dummy was destroyed it rebuilt itself providing never-ending targets. Harry lost himself in the moment. His frustration, his fury, his anger, his hurt, his confusion; all rushing out of him. 

Two hours later, Harry fell to his knees. His limbs shaking from exhaustion, sweat dripping off of him like a river, and hot tears streaking his face. Panting, Harry touched his forehead to the cold floor, his forearms bracing him. He felt surprisingly empty in the afterglow of his release. His exhaustion was welcome as Harry felt his heartbeat slowing. 

“Impressive.” Harry jerked upright and held his wand out.  “None of that now,” Marvolo said with a dismissive wave to the wand. Harry lowered it but didn’t relax. “So much raw power,” the man whispered and Harry felt a shiver trickle down his spine but it wasn’t out of fear. “It is no wonder you were prophesied to face me. Even with a wand that does not recognize you as a Master, you can do so much.” Marvolo’s velvet voice was closer to a purr and Harry swallowed thickly and stood. 

“Why are you here?” 

“Well this is my house,” the man countered. “And I confess myself curious as to what you would do after storming out.”

“Right, well we agreed not to harm each other and I wouldn’t be able to keep it if I stayed.”

“Rather mature of you,” Marvolo stated, hands clasped behind him as he stepped closer. “How would you like me to teach you?”

Harry blinked, his brain was still slow from exhaustion. “What?”

“Teach you. Train you. Help you become one of the most feared and respected duellists of our time,” his words were a whispered caress draped in silk and Harry shivered, they were less than a foot apart now. “I know you have the raw power, having witnessed it myself. You just need the finesse, the craft, to become truly great.”

“Why?”

“Consider it another layer to the protection portion of the agreement.”

Harry doubted that was really it but having the opportunity to learn how to really duel was hard to pass up. Especially learning how to duel from a Master. “But we aren’t supposed to harm each other.”

“It won’t be with malicious intent, of course. Purely instructional, I believe our agreement will allow for that. Besides to start you will face dummies not actual people.”

Harry hesitated and chewed his lip. This was all just temporary, this arrangement. So who was to deny him the opportunity to improve himself? It would be foolish of him really to decline when he could use the skill to protect others. “None of the Unforgivables or anything too Dark.”

“Of course,” Marvolo replied silkily and Harry could almost hear the ‘not yet’ as he looked into those glittering red eyes. Harry swallowed nervously. “Now, it had gotten quite late. So you go off to bed. I’ll instruct you on the spell for ink in the morning.”

The man was gone a moment later, disappearing in a swirl of cloaks out the door. “Tobi?” Harry called out wearily as he grabbed his outer robes. The elf appeared looking cautious. “I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you earlier. I was angry and not in my right mind.”

“Master Death Master is being too kind to Tobi,” the elf quivered. 

“Nonsense, I was wrong to speak like that. Please forgive me.” Tobi seemed to be unable to speak and just nodded his head very fast. “Thank you. Now, could you lead me to my rooms?”

Climbing out of the shower, Harry toweled off and barely managed to pull on sleep pants before collapsing on his bed.


	9. We Have to Make it Seem Real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking a step away from Harry now and checking out on those friends still loyal to him as they decide how to handle everything that has happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything is J.K. Rowlings. I only claim the plot. Everything else is hers, all the characters and the magic, all of it. Please let me know what you think though, I encourage feedback of all kinds, just be nice about it!
> 
> So it's looking like Snape will be fully on the Dark side and it's leaning towards a mentorship. I'll see what I can do with that. Anyway, still give me your thoughts, I love seeing the comments and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

**We Have to Make it Seem Real**

Hermione paced around the front of Ron's bedroom as he and Ginny lounged on his bed, their eyes tracking her anxious movements. Dobby had just appeared and given them each a letter from Harry. Hermione was impressed at the thought of using House Elves instead of owls as much as she hated the increased use of slave labor. She had noted Dobby’s attire change with narrowed eyes and would definitely be bringing that up with Harry next she saw him. Which judging by the letters, who knew when that would be. 

The letters had been brief but very informative. The highlights consisting of about four things. One, Harry was with  _ Him _ . Two, Harry had struck a deal with  _ Him _ . Three, Harry had gone to Gringotts to get information about his abilities and walked out with three Lordships and ownership of former Headquarters. Which had explained why that morning everyone in the house, which had been the majority of the Weasleys, herself, Moody, Kingsley, Remus, Tonks, and Mundungus Fletcher, had been abrupt --for lack of a better word-- blasted out by some unseen force. Four, Harry had agreed not to harm  _ Him  _ and vice versa during this alliance, and that pardon had extended to themselves, the ones Harry still trusted, if they, in turn, didn’t take up wands against  _ His  _ forces. 

“Hermione, you need to stop,” Ginny sighed from the foot of the bed, her fiery hair draped over the edge of the bed, her knees bent and feet dangling over the other edge. 

“You’re right,” Hermione agreed, nodding her head but continuing to pace. Her hands wringing each other tightly in front of her chest, Ron had taken her wand shortly after the letters when her nerves had started causing sparks. “He’s safe. That’s all that matters.”

“We knew that this would happen,” Ron chimed in, propped up by his pillows at the head of the bed, his legs stretched out in front of him. “We knew that  _ He  _ would be Harry’s best chance, as much as it sucks, that’s the way it is now.”

Hermione grimaced and glanced at him. The afternoon sun streaming through the window highlighted the scars that stretched across his forearms, a reminder from what had occurred just over a month ago. Hermione still felt pain in her chest most mornings and when she got too worked up, such as now, she thought with a wince as her chest twinged unpleasantly and she rubbed her breast bone to try to ease the ache. 

“I still can’t believe what Dumbledore was doing,” Ginny murmured, her eyes now fixed on the ceiling. “I mean we are supposed to be the Light, the good guys. Torture shouldn’t be in our practice. Harry couldn’t even control it! It’s a magical inheritance, for Merlin’s sake! That’s already rare enough.” The redheads' cheeks were flushed as the anger started to take over. 

“We know it’s all terrible and the world has seriously flipped in the last week,” Ron agreed, surprisingly calm, Hermione noted. That night in the Ministry had really affected him it seemed. “Question is, how do we deal with it? What do we do now?” Ron glanced between the two girls. “Dumbledore will be questioning us soon. He’s already gone for the twins. The only thing that has stopped him up until now is that we can’t do magic because of the trace. So we aren’t prime suspects. But he will come soon. So, what are we going to do?”

There was a seriousness in those blue eyes that was chilling and Hermione found herself missing the way they would lighten as he laughed or brightened when he told a story about a prank the twins did. But it wasn’t the time for that, Ron was right. They needed to decide how to proceed.

“Well that’s the easy part,” Ginny said, pushing herself up onto her elbows. “We lie. I mean this is  _ Harry  _ we are talking about. He’s our friend, not Dumbledore. And after what we just found out, even more so. Fuck Dumbledore and his twinkly eyes. I’m with Harry.”

Hermione blinked at the passion behind the statement and wondered at its source before Ron interrupted her thoughts. “That was never in question, Gin,” he said with a shake of his head. “Of course we are with Harry. What I meant was, how are we going to play this?”

“We have to pretend,” Hermione gasped, realizing what Ron was saying and he gave her a solemn nod.

Ginny frowned. “What?”

“Dumbledore doesn’t know what we know,” Ron explained, sitting up more fully. “He thinks we are all still dotingly oblivious. We have the upper hand. We continue to hold his trust. Pretend to agree with him. Pretend to turn our backs on Harry. Dumbledore might even tell us something of importance that we can send to Harry. We have to keep suspicion off of us.”

“We have to make it seem real,” Hermione whispered, feeling sick at just the thought of verbally betraying her best friend.

Ginny seemed to feel much the same way but nodded with a resigned sigh. “I see your point but it makes my skin crawl.”

“There is another thing,” Ron continued, his brow furrowed as he stared at his hands without seeing them. Hermione realized that Ron must have been thinking about all of this quite a lot. “What with the alliance Harry has formed with _Him_ , well Harry claims it’s just temporary. But we all know that _He_ won’t want Harry slipping away. Not with what Harry is now. I don’t think Harry will fold easily, but it is a very strong possibility that Harry will fully join _Him_. If so, do we follow or stay neutral? I mean, none of us are with the Light after what Dumbledore pulled, but do we go full Dark?”

Hermione thought it over and glanced at the two Weasley siblings, suddenly realizing that she really didn’t have to think all that hard over the answer. “I stand with Harry, no matter what.” Her voice was soft but firm. 

“Agreed,” Ginny said with a definitive nod. 

Ron smiled lightly. “Glad we are all on the same page then. It will make it easier, knowing where we stand when things start getting rough.”

The three fell silent, each absorbed in their own thoughts about what had just been discussed and the decisions made. Hermione could almost feel the shift in the air at their choice. “Ron! Hermione!” Mrs. Weasley's voice drifted up after another hour of silent thought. “Come down, Professor Dumbledore is here.”

Hermione felt cold and her stomach dropped. She had never been good at acting or lying to those of higher authority. Luckily the other two looked just as nervous and pale. 

“Coming Mum!” Ron shouted back but none of them moved. “Now or never,” he finally sighed, swinging his legs off the bed and standing. “Remember, we stand with Harry. No matter what we end up having to say.” Ginny and Hermione nodded and Ron gave them each a nod and reached out to squeeze Hermione’s hand. Hermione smiled gratefully at him, taking comfort and calm from his strength. He raised his eyebrows as he stared at her, not dropping his hand, but silently asking if she was ready. 

Taking a shaky breath, Hermione squeezed back and nodded her head. “Remember not to look in his eyes,” she cautioned as Ron dropped his hand and opened his bedroom door. He led the trio out of his room and down the stairs. Ginny trailing behind Hermione, despite not having been summoned. 

By the time they had reached the bottom of the stairs, Hermione was focused and determined. This was all for Harry. Her best friend, who had always been there for her. She would lie as much as she could if it kept him safe. The three stopped just before entering the kitchen and exchanged one last nod of solidarity before stepping in the kitchen. 

Mrs. Weasley was bustling about preparing that nights dinner and Dumbledore sat at the table with a freshly prepared cup of tea in his hands chatting with Mr. Weasley. What was surprising was that Moody, Remus, and Tonks were also there. The latter two looking worried and confused, as did Mr. Weasley. Moody’s magical eye swiveled towards them and Hermione felt her nerves heighten and tried to reflect it as concerned worry. 

“Ah, children, thank you for coming,” Dumbledore said brightly. The light that twinkled in his eyes looked sinister now but Hermione kept her focus. 

“What’s wrong, Professor? Is something wrong with Harry? Is he alright? Do you know why we were kicked out of Headquarters?” she rushed out in a stream of questions that would have been appropriate for the Hermione of a week ago. 

The aged wizard smiled kindly and gestured to the empty seats around the table. “Please, take a seat. Ah, Ginny, yes, I suppose you should also hear this as well. Please, sit.” The three students took their seats. Hermione wondered if Dumbledore noticed the distance they put between him and themselves. He didn’t give any indication. “As a matter of fact, this is about Harry.”

Remus and Tonks perked up and Mrs. Weasley stopped bustling for a moment, coming closer to hear any word of her surrogate son. Moody grumbled something and slouched deeper in his chair, his eye continuously moving. 

“What’s wrong?” Ginny asked fretfully. “Did something happen?”

Dumbledore sighed gravely and the wrinkles on his forehead deepened. “I’m afraid I have grave news.” Hermione tensed. Wondering how the old man was going to play things. “Harry has gone Dark.”

The adults in the room, minus Moody, gasped horrified and unbelieving. Hermione tried her best to mimic them even though she felt like cursing something. 

“That can’t be possible,” Ron blurted out. “It’s  _ Harry _ . He’s the Lights’ Saviour, the Chosen One, how can he be Dark?”

“I agree,” Remus said speaking up. “I find it hard to believe that Harry is Dark.”

“I know, my boy. I could hardly believe it either. But it is true. He received his magical inheritance on his birthday. He is a Necromancer.” There was a clang as Mrs. Weasley dropped the pan she had been holding, bringing her hands up to cover her mouth. 

“No!” Tonks gasped horrified, her hair looking a sickly yellow to match her mood. “He can’t be! There hasn’t been one in centuries.”

“It’s true,” Moody chimed in. “Seen the mark myself.”

“Is that why you rushed out last week?” Ginny whispered. She looked the perfect mixture of horrified and like she just truly wished what she was told wasn’t true. Hermione glanced at the Headmaster curious at how he would answer the question. 

“Yes, my dear. The wards alerted me that Dark magic was occurring at Harry’s house. I assumed it was Death Eaters. When I arrived, Harry had just killed his Uncle and was starting to kill his cousin and Aunt. I did the only thing I could and stunned him. I had hoped that Voldemort might have been possessing him but then I saw the mark on his chest. I enlisted Alastors help in bringing him someplace safe, to question him when he woke up. Hoping that maybe we could reason with him.”

“And?” Tonks blurted out, unhappy with the pause in the story. 

Dumbledore sighed heavily and if Hermione hadn’t known the truth she would have felt for the man. “He awoke and killed Hestia Jones whom I had brought to possibly tend to any wounds he might have received.” 

“I don’t believe it,” Remus muttered, looking terribly pale as he stared at the table. Hermione worried that the man might get sick or faint...maybe both.  

“But this is Harry,” Ron protested weakly, as though trying to convince himself. Hermione chanced a glance at her best friend and saw him looking absolutely distraught at the news. She hoped her own face was mimicking the same emotions well enough. 

“Where is he now, Albus?” Mr. Weasley asked, speaking up for the first time. 

“He has escaped,” the man sighed. “He escaped the other day and I have no trace of him as he no longer has his wand, for I took it off of him when he found him attacking his family.”

“Oh the poor dear,” Mrs. Weasley fretted. “All alone and not knowing what is happening. He must be so frightened.”

“The old Harry yes, but this is not that Harry, Molly,” Albus said sadly. 

“He is a Necromancer, whoever he was before is gone,” Moody said roughly. “You know the stories, as well as I. Necromancers are the Darkest of the Dark. Even Dark Lords rejoiced when they died off.”

“But this is Harry,” Hermione said softly, she turned her eyes to the Headmaster as though silently pleading that this was all a joke, but she made sure to keep her gaze just out of focus of his eyes staring at the bridge of his nose instead. 

“I know, my dear. It is a hard blow to all of us. But Harry is Dark now. And we must do what we can to combat this situation. He is loose in the world and who knows how many have already died. We need to alert the media to be on the lookout, but I wanted to speak with all of you first. You knew him best.” Hermione stiffened slightly as those twinkly blue eyes swept across the group around the table. “Can you think of where he might have gone?”

“Not really,” Ron muttered, his brow furrowed in thought. “But it’s like you said, Professor. Harry isn’t the bloke we knew anymore. He’s Dark now. Who knows how he thinks now.” Ron's nose had wrinkled in disgust as he said this statement. Dumbledore was nodding sagely and Moody looked pleased with his words. Remus still looked sick and Tonks seemed torn but seemed to be leaning towards her mentors. Mr. Weasley seemed to have aged a decade in the span of the five-minute conversation and Mrs. Weasley was busying herself with cleaning dishes but shaking her head in a fretful way. 

“What about the former Headquarters?” Tonks suggested. “Could he be there?”

“It is our best guess. I can only guess that it was Harry that banished us in the first place which means he has been to Gringotts and accepted his Black Lordship.”

“You mean he kicked us out of his home?” Mrs. Weasley asked in surprise. 

“He isn’t little Harry Potter anymore,” Moody shouted suddenly, turning both eyes towards the Weasley matriarch. “He is Dark. Potter is a Necromancer. What should he care about others having a house?”

“But he knows about here? Could he come here?” Mrs. Weasley asked.

“It is unknown,” Dumbledore sighed. “But I will increase the wards around the house just in case.”

“Do you think it wise to alert the media, Albus?” Mr. Weasley asked changing the subject. “News of this nature would incite mass panic. Harry was the Chosen One, hearing what he is now will destroy people.”

“I know, Arthur. But they need to know. They need to be aware and put on alert. Harry is dangerous.”

Remus suddenly stood, hunched over on himself. He mumbled something but Hermione couldn’t catch it before the werewolf was stumbling out of the kitchen and a few moments later she heard the front door open and shut. 

“I guess this explains how Harry was able to survive the Killing Curse,” Hermione said as bitterly as she could, trying to draw focus away from Remus’s sudden exit. “What exactly do you know about Necromancers, sir? I haven’t read much about them. Most of it is all legend and myth and stories to scare children. Is it true they can kill with just a look?” 

“I’m afraid I don’t know, the very nature of them is uncertain,” Dumbledore replied hesitantly, as though deciding his words carefully. “The only thing that history agrees on is that they are the Darkest of creatures. I fear we need to focus on bringing Harry down before we can continue with Voldemort.”

Tonks gasped again. “You really think he is that big of a threat?”

“He’s Dark, Nymphadora,” Moody snapped. “All of the Dark is a threat. He isn’t a doe-eyed Gryffindor anymore, he would kill you if given the chance and laugh while doing it. His mind is warped now.” The fact that Tonks didn’t even react to her given name demonstrated how shaken up the young Auror was. “Worse, once You Know Who finds out, Potter will be his target too. Potter needs to die before he can join with that tyrant.”

“And given their connection, it isn’t a terrible leap to guess that Voldemort already knows and is hunting him already. Which is why we must alert the public.”

Hermione refrained from jumping up in defense of her absent friend at the blatant declaration on Harry’s life by nodding her head as if in agreement but really just to provide motion for her anxious energy. Her chest was flaring greater now and she pressed her palm against her breast bone again to try to relieve the ache. 

“I know this is all terrible news, children,” Dumbledore continued, turning his full attention to Ron, Ginny, and Hermione. “But I need to ask for your help.”

“Of course,” Ron said instantly. “After all we did for him! All we went through! I still have my scars from that night at the Ministry,” he said furiously, thrusting his arms out to show the thin lines wrapping around his skin. “After everything, he just went Dark on us! We were his friends. How could he turn on us like this!” The redhead continued viciously. Hermione had to remind herself that this was all an act because it sounded so believable. 

“He’s right, Professor,” Ginny chimed in. Her face flushed with indignant anger. “To think I actually  _ liked  _ him!” She pretended to gag. “Who knows how many witches he might charm and use with his new powers. Whatever you need, just ask.”

Dumbledore turned his gaze to Hermione and she gave as fierce a nod as she could, not trusting herself to speak just yet. The nod didn’t seem to be enough though and so taking a breath Hermione continued the rant against her best friend. “It just makes me so sick, Professor. I guess we should have seen it from the start though. I mean he is a Parselmouth and then that connection he has with You Know Who. I just wished we had realized sooner,” she spat out and rubbed at her chest pointedly, silently referencing the damage taken at the Ministry. 

“I understand this betrayal must feel terrible and I appreciate your willingness to assist me,” the aged wizard said kindly sympathetic. “I only wish for you to keep an eye out for any contact he might send. He is Dark and so his goal will be to take down the Light and I have no doubt that he will be using his former connection to you in order to do so.” Hermione tried to look disgusted at the thought of contact from Harry but felt a giggle bubbling in her chest at thinking of the letters they had just received a few hours previously. “If he sends you any letters, please bring them directly to me. Don’t even open them. We don’t know what kind of Dark magic he might have placed on them.”

“Of course, Professor,” the three chorused together. 

“Enough of this talk now,” Mrs. Weasley chimed in, bustling over. “Dinner will be ready shortly so you three set the table. Headmaster, Alastor, Tonks, do you plan on staying for dinner?” 

All three declined and said their goodbyes. The Burrow felt horribly empty with everyone else gone. Dinner was silent and uncomfortable, with Mrs. Weasley looking like she wanted to either shout or burst into tears at any given moment. Finally, the food was finished and the three teenagers escaped back into Ron's room. 

Ron slammed the door and slouched against it, letting out a breath that he had probably been holding since entering the kitchen. Hermione felt her knees go weak and reached blindly for the crowded desk against the wall. While Ginny collapsed onto the bed with a whimper. Hermione really didn’t know how spies in wars handled it. The high strung emotions and deceit. Maybe that was why Professor Snape was so cold. He had played spy for both sides long enough that he had just shut off all of his emotions in order to stay sane. 

“I feel like I need to shower after listening to all of that,” Ginny finally admitted. “I felt like being sick every time I spoke.”

Ron grunted, his head resting against the door, eyes closed. “I know what you mean. But we made it through.” 

Hermione sighed. “We just need to keep an eye out on everyone, see who else might be sympathetic to Harry. Remus and your parents might be but I’m nervous about approaching anyone yet.”

“We also need to talk to the twins,” Ginny pointed out. “See what they have to say and if they are on the same page as we are.”

“Yeah,” Ron agreed, it seemed that talking strategy was helping to calm his mind. He was able to open his eyes and step away from the door at least. “We need to wait on more words from Harry though. See how he wants to play this and go from there. For now, we can only sit, wait and watch. Good news is that Dumbledore and Moody seemed to have bought our act.”

Ginny groaned and Hermione sighed. The three separated soon after and as Hermione climbed into the bed set up in Ginny's room, she couldn’t help but think of what Harry was doing now and if he was really as safe as he claimed under  _ His  _ roof. Taking another deep breath and rubbing at her aching chest, she closed her eyes and waited for sleep. 


	10. Thank You for the Welcoming Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, Harry finally starts learning about his Necromancy and gets introduced to the Death Eaters. A lot of stuff for Harry to think about in this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything is J.K. Rowlings. I only claim the plot. Everything else is hers, all the characters and the magic, all of it. Please let me know what you think though, I encourage feedback of all kinds, just be nice about it!
> 
> Keep letting me know what you think! 
> 
> Also, remember, Voldemort is sane and while there will be a relationship in the future that hasn't started yet. They have literally just become allies and have some stuff to work through. So, currently, Voldemort is attempting to fully draw Harry to his side permanently using whatever methods he thinks will work, such as seduction. At the moment it is all just an act to get Harry fully on his side but that will change.

**Thank You for the Welcoming Present**

The next morning, Tobi woke Harry and after a quick shower, he was able to use the wand to shave and trim his hair a bit. He would either have to grow it out much longer to properly use the hairband or just keep it short and Harry wasn’t sure he had the patience to grow it out. Throwing on some casual blue robes since he had no plans to leave today, Harry then followed Tobi to breakfast.

Again, there was silence as the food was served and their plates filled. “I planned on giving you the tour of the house after breakfast since we were unable to do so yesterday,” Marvolo began. “Then we could retire to the library and I will teach you the spell you need. As for your dueling training, how about in the afternoons, say around two? It will provide ample time to freshen up for dinner after.”

Not seeing any flaws, Harry just nodded and continued with his eggs. His anger and frustration over the situation had leaked out of him last night in the Dueling Room. All too soon, Marvolo was leading Harry through the manor. Apparently, it was the Slytherin Manor, Harry wasn’t sure how Marvolo had been able to claim access to it but didn’t bother asking. It was still confusing but in the light of day and with markers pointed out, Harry felt that he’d be able to navigate better.

The manor was three floors. Marvolo’s private wing, which now included Harry’s room, resided on the third floor. And while Harry had seen Marvolo’s office, the library, the small dining room, the Dueling Room, the little sitting room off of what Marvolo called the Gathering Room, and the Gathering Room itself, there was still a lot more. There were many more bedrooms for one, which were where his followers all stayed after their release from Azkaban. There was a formal dining room with a ridiculously long table, two potions labs, a ballroom with beautiful chandeliers, and then the gardens which were breathtaking.

“Of course, as my guest, you will have free reign over the manor unless of course a room is locked and then you must not enter.” Harry nodded, he didn’t have any intention of doing any snooping. He didn’t want to risk a Dark Curse in response.

Finally, they arrived back at the library and Marvolo began instructing him on the ink refreshing spell: ‘atramento meum refrigerium’*. Having mastered it within thirty minutes, Harry asked Tobi to retrieve his trunk, mentally grumbling about the bastard being such an excellent teacher.

Taking the first journal out of the trunk, Harry nervously licked his lips and felt Marvolo watching him intently. Regripping the foreign wand, Harry cast the refreshing spell. He held his breath and shakily let it out as he watched the faded ink darken. The words springing to life like they had been written yesterday. Harry almost cried out in relief at coming closer to answers. Tentatively, Harry brought the journal with him to one of the armchairs, completely oblivious to Marvolo still standing in the library. Glancing at the inside cover, Harry read the tiny printed script: _Ashur Peverell_. Settling further into the cushions of the chair and drawing up his knees, Harry turned the page and saw the tiny print continued.

_It has been a long time coming that I finally put into words what my life has become. The past two years have been like no other. I must confess I find it hard to even begin. So let’s start at the beginning, shall we? If you are reading this, I’m sure my account will feel all too familiar and I hope to provide my descendants with some consolation._

Harry’s heart thudded frantically and his fingers tingled as he continued to read Ashur’s account.

_Currently I am nearing my eighteenth year of birth, however, it was just before my sixteenth year that things changed. It had been the months and weeks leading up to it that I recall as being some of the worst I’ve ever experienced. The irritability, the fever, the itchiness beneath the skin. What misery! And during the holidays of Yule as well. I was quite sullen about it all. It was only worse in the month leading to my day of birth. Previously I had been feeling out of sorts but nothing compared to my final month. I contributed my off-put feelings to witnessing the passing of my beloved grandfather. I challenged the murderer to a duel but because I was so distraught and off-put, I must admit that I did not perform admirably nor did I fare well. I was hit by a curse that should have left me for dead. In fact, if not for this gift I would have most certainly died._

_I have communed with Death himself! I have been Blessed as his Child. A Necromancer is what those in my village shriek when they see me raise the dead or when I took the life of my grandfathers killer. They do not understand the great Blessing bestowed nor the tremendous responsibility to be trusted by Death._

_If you read this, you too have been Blessed. You too bare the weight of Life and Death._

_I mentioned speaking with Death and I have communed with my Master many times and fully intend to continue. It is on his advice that I start this documentation and that all of his future Children continue this path to help guide our fellows. I questioned as to who else could be claimed as a Child of Death, eager for companionship for it is a lonely life I fear. Death declared that the Peverell Family had pleased him greatly in our honoring of the proper burials and respect of Magic. And so only one of my line would get the Blessing. However, I fear it is not so simple as that. To prove worthy of Death, one must face it. Must understand it._

_To be Blessed by Death requires three previous experiences. The first is to witness the vulnerability of Life, the heartbreak of loss. The first is to witness Death. The second is to know the weight of Life, to know blood on your hands. The second is to send one to Death. The third, and the one I fear and hope so few will meet is to feel one’s own Life and to embrace Death fully, yet not succumb. The third is to survive Death. And if this was not all so terrible and grievous but it all must take place during the innocence of Life. Before the crest of the sixteenth year._

_It aches at my heart to know that I might be the last, but I also hope I am. I would never wish the disruption of innocence. Especially knowing the burden the Blessing brings. For all wonders come at a cost. This, my descendants, I believe you know well. Life is not easy and as one Blessed by Death, you shall stand separate from Life. It is the job of the vessel of Death to grant Life for those worthy, to ease passage for those weary, and to deliver the unworthy to our Master._

“Master Death Master!” Tobi’s voice made Harry jump and fumble the journal in his hands.

“Yes, Tobi?” he rasped, heart pounding and feeling light-headed.

“It is being lunchtime,” the elf gestured to the sandwich and a glass of pumpkin juice on the coffee table.

“Right, thanks.” The elf bowed and disappeared.

Harry pulled the sandwich and juice closer, suddenly ravenous. The moment the food was finished, Harry turned his eyes back to the journals.

Ashur Peverell had continued to document the choices he had made over the years. The choices he had made over a person's life. Why he had saved some and condemned others. He spoke of the runic symbol on his chest. He spoke of the icy fire and how it called to him as his body called to water when thirsty when he had not unleashed it regularly. Ashur spoke of bringing people back from the edge of Death but spoke of the tremendous cost it took to deny Death, their Master.

But above all, Ashur Peverell wrote of loneliness, of the people he worked to help save shunning him and calling him a monster, a killer, Dark. He claimed that even though he was married and his wife, his dearest Antonia, was wonderfully understanding. She too couldn’t understand. Could not follow him when he communed with Death. He spoke of his worries over his first child, currently still growing within an expecting Antonia. How he desired a companion but dared not risk his child attempting to meet the requirements Death demanded.

It was a Blessing, Ashur insisted. Death had chosen him and his line. It was an honor. He wrote of the joy of families after saving their innocent child for Death was not a cruel Master and did not desire the innocent and untainted. Ashur spoke of providing closure for families, allowing them a final goodbye. He spoke of Death bestowing a noble steed to him, allowing Ashur to travel swiftly and without error when he needed to ferry the individual souls' Death wished for specifically. He spoke of the guards of Darkness designed to numb those in passing by sucking memories.

The first journal completed, encompassing the first five years of Ashur Peverells life as a Necromancer, sat on Harry’s lap as he stared into space. Harry’s heart ached. He felt his future falling into place and he felt wetness on his cheeks. Unseeing when Marvolo entered the library and claimed the sofa to the right of him.

“Is it a Necromancers’ ability to learn through osmosis?”

Jumping slightly, Harry twisted to see the red-eyed man sitting pristinely on the blue cushions. Hastily he wiped the wetness from his cheeks. It took him a moment to realize that the Dark Lord had attempted a joke. It was a strange realization but the strangeness was enough to draw him from his thoughts.

“I’ve finished the first journal.” His voice was rough and he felt like he was in a trance. “Ashur Peverell, the First Blessed by Death. The one who gained favor from Death to honor his bloodline.” Marvolo was silent and Harry was grateful. He didn’t want pressing questions or leading statements. He felt raw and tender and just wanted to speak his discoveries. He didn’t have anyone else at the moment since all of his friends were still near Dumbledore, so Marvolo was his only confidant in this and while it was bizarre Harry found himself not caring. “Ashur talked about how he didn’t wish the burden of being Deaths Chosen on anyone but how he longed for a companion to share it with.” Harry sniffed as he looked down at the journal. He could feel his eyes getting wet again but his pride refused to let them fall in front of Voldemort. “I’ll always be alone, separate. Taking Life and granting it. Choosing who lives and who dies. Imparting Deaths chosen justice. Loved and hated. Shunned and misunderstood but sought out and exalted.” The silence stretched for hours or seconds, Harry wasn’t sure. “And you know. I suppose I have you to thank for it all.”

Marvolo started and his arched eyebrows rose. “I don’t understand.” Oh, how much it must have pained him to admit that, Harry thought with bitter amusement.

“Three requirements to be met by the sixteenth birthday,” Harry replied. “One,” he said counting it off on his fingers. “Witness Death. This could have counted when you killed my parents, when you killed Cedric, or when Bellatrix killed Sirius, indirectly because of you. The second is to send one to Death, to kill. The only times I can think of are Quirrell when you were possessing him, the Basilisk that your memory controlled and it was a magical creature and probably qualifies, or your memory itself. It had almost fully drained Ginny and it was pretty solid after all. And third, experience Death. Again, you cast the Killing Curse at my one-year-old self. So as you can see, you were a pretty big influence on my obtaining my inheritance. Because of you, I have been Blessed and cursed to forever be alone as I judge the people of the world.”

Harry watched with detached interest as Marvolo processed all of this and he thought he could detect some guilt and uncertainty, definitely nerves. It was fascinating to watch the crimson eyes waver in their confidence.

“I’m not sure how you desire me to respond,” Marvolo finally said, his voice even and smooth but Harry detected the hesitancy. Harry had never before believed that the Dark Lord could appear so human, vulnerable. It was almost endearing… if it had been anybody else.

“No particular way,” Harry replied with a shrug. “Just allowing you to know your role in all of this. Maybe understand the gravity of your impact on my life. And if anything, this just gives more validity to your helping me master what you practically created me to be.” Harry scowled lightly before standing suddenly to replace the journal in the trunk. “Shall we go train now?”

Harry really couldn’t describe his mood at the moment. He just felt numb and distant to it all. He had only read the first journal and Ashur Peverell was the first. Maybe those that followed were able to combat the loneliness somehow? He wouldn’t despair just yet. He wasn’t alone after all. He still had his friends. At least he hoped he still did. And Marvolo seemed keen on winning him over, so for the moment he was wanted and desired, if only for his power. Harry had faced loneliness before after all, understood what it meant to have no one fully understand. He could survive it if all else seemed to fail.

Rolling his shoulders, he settled into position in the Dueling Room. No, he wouldn’t despair after just reading one journal. He still had nineteen more. There was still much to learn. Barely dodging a red curse that flew past his cheek, Harry felt a grim smile pull at his lips. Yes, still much to learn.

***

Sighing, Harry stepped out of the shower. That first training session had been brutal and he knew he would be sore tomorrow morning. Thankfully though, Tobi had left a Pain Relief Potion on his bedside table. Quickly downing it, he turned to his closet to grab some robes for dinner. The training had really uplifted his mood, he thought pleasantly as he selected some soft grey robes.

Just like last night when he had exhausted himself of his emotions, this afternoon had been much the same. After all of the information, he had learned from the first journal. Learning of the future loneliness he would have to endure and the knowledge that Voldemort was pretty much the whole cause behind him getting his inheritance. He had been numb and in shock. But the training had helped set his thoughts straight. They hadn’t cursed each other though, Marvolo had him aiming at targets first but had charmed the targets to fight back.

Marvolo had explained that first, he needed to build his physical endurance in order to last in a long duel and to give fuel to his magical strength. So today had been mostly ducking and dodging while trying to shoot off the more basic spells but with deadly accuracy. Marvolo had explained that accuracy was what won a duel. Being able to fire off multiple spells was great but if none of them hit the target then it was just a wasted effort and a drain on power.

It had made sense and Harry knew he would learn a lot during those sessions. Feeling uplifted, he set off for dinner making it halfway before he had to call Tobi to help guide him the rest of the way. Things were going well for him though, considering the chaos of his life. He was finally learning about his inheritance and his family as well. He planned on finishing the journals by the end of the week to then start on the actual Necromancy practice with the guidebooks. And he was learning how to properly duel and survive in a fight. Harry still didn’t understand why Dumbledore had refused to help train him, especially since the old man claimed that Harry had to face Voldemort in the end. How could he hope to survive with no training? Harry didn’t understand it but he was finally taking his life into his own hands and it felt great.

He should have known his good mood wouldn’t last.

Sitting down, the two sat in silence as the elves served dinner. Again the food was delicious and Harry was making plans to start on the second and hopefully third journals tonight. He would probably need his own journal as well soon, he thought absently.

“Harry.” Blinking, Harry raised his head to look at the man across from him. A flicker of unease curling in his stomach. “I shall be holding a Gathering tonight, informing my followers that you are off-limits. It wouldn’t do for you to feel the need to avoid them when they make their reports and my Inner Circle sometimes share meals with me throughout the week.” Harry swallowed his bite of chicken parmesan, trying not to shudder at the thought of Death Eaters roaming the halls. It was appreciated that Marvolo was giving him the heads up to expect them though, but Harry felt like this wasn’t all. “You will be in attendance tonight as well.”

“What!” Harry gasped, dropping his fork. “No.”

Marvolo raised a pale hand to halt further protests and continued smoothly. “If we are to be allies than you must be introduced as such. It will not be much of a meeting, merely an...introduction to make them all aware of the change of status. It wouldn’t be much of an alliance if you weren’t even present for the announcement.” Harry bit back the angry growl that was building in his throat. He felt like he was walking into a trap and hated the feeling. The logic was sound though and that made him even madder. “Besides, wasn’t this one of your deal agreements, that I could hold you over Dumbledore's head? I believe presenting you at a Death Eater meeting qualifies.” The smirk made him want to scream while the glitter in the rubies staring at him made him want to shiver.

“An introduction?” Harry repeated slowly, trying to keep his temper in check. Luckily his body was still tired from the training earlier so it was a little easier. Maybe that had been Marvolo’s plan all along?

“Yes, no need to fear any initiation rituals,” the man chuckled lowly. “Just an introduction of who you are.”

“They already know who I am. And they saw me show up the other day asking for a deal. Your minions aren’t that thick are they?”

The red eyes narrowed and the lips tightened into a line. “No, my Death Eaters are not _thick_ , as you so inelegantly claimed and not all of them were present the other day. It is the ceremony of the matter, above all else” he continued tersely. “This is a statement to be made, a formality of the arrangement. And with your new Lordships, it is vital to make the statement of your allegiance and your place among them.”

“I am not one of them. I have no place among them,” Harry gritted out, tired or not his anger was beginning to mount higher.

“Exactly,” Marvolo hissed, his lips twisted in a semblance of a smile. “You are not one of them and that should be made clear. You are above them.”

This made Harry pause. Above them? He was just an ally though, this was all just temporary...right? He felt his chest tighten and felt like he was being backed into another trap that he couldn’t see and couldn’t fight. He licked his lips as he tried to find a response but his mind was blank.

Marvolo must have taken his silence as acceptance because he swiftly continued. “Tobi will have your robes ready. The Gathering is in two hours. I expect you waiting in the side room half an hour before then.” Harry frowned at the order, feeling very much like a scolded child as Marvolo rose and left the room.

“Bastard,” Harry muttered, pushing his half-eaten meal away. Appetite soured completely at the thought of later that night.

The next hour and a half was spent with Harry silently stewing in his anger and frustration while playing doll for Tobi and Mimsy. And now, he was dressed in ridiculously expensive robes standing in the small sitting room where he had made his deal with Voldemort.

He pulled at the sleeves of his robes once more, they were finer than anything he had ever worn before and he had no idea how Marvolo had had the time to get them made. But they definitely made an impression. They were silky black and felt like water rushing over his skin. The trim was golden and Harry wondered if it had actually been spun with real gold the way it shimmered every time the light touched it. And instead of a family crest adorning his breast the gold formed the mark of a Necromancer, it shone golden directly above where the mark was tattooed into his skin. The rings on his fingers seemed to shine brighter as if knowing the importance of what was about to occur and wanting to make an impression. Mimsy had even helped tame his hair. It had taken the majority of the hour and a half he had been given but it did look better. It was still a mess but now it looked purposefully done, gently tousled is probably what Hermione would call it, Ginny would call it freshly shagged. And the edges had been trimmed up giving him what he remembered Dean calling a fade, not to the skin but close.

So now, without his glasses and his hair taken care of and dressed in robes fit for royalty, Harry felt a surge of confidence that he had never felt before. He knew he looked good and the thought shocked him before a voice that sounded like Ron told him to just embrace it, at least for tonight. Because tonight he needed all of the confidence he could muster.

The door opened and Marvolo walked in looking just as elegant as he always did but his robes were also of a finer quality. Nagini slithered in at his side, Harry had wondered where the giant serpent was and judging by her hissed commentary at her Masters' side, she had been hunting.

Harry glared at the man. “It is a simple introduction, nothing so horrifying,” Marvolo said completely unruffled by the glare. “Besides, it isn’t just my followers. But many of their family members who have also proven their devout loyalty are in attendance as well.” Harry blinked, not expecting this. So his classmates would be there too. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. “This is a message that all on my side need to be made aware of and I won’t rely on any word of mouth but my own.” It made sense, Harry supposed, he still hadn’t expected an even larger crowd and it wasn’t helping his nerves or temper. “Now, this is your first impression on my followers as an ally so it needs to count. You shall stand at the side of the stage with Nagini. Understood?”

Harry still glaring, nodded and crossed his arms. “Yeah, I get the importance of it but it doesn’t mean I have to like it. I still don’t agree with your side and a good majority of those minions out there have tried to kill me.”

“As have I, and yet here we are,” the man countered.

“Just keep Bellatrix on a tight leash. I will not be held accountable when she is around. She is demented and needs to be put down and I am perfectly happy with doing so.”

Harry half expected a defense of the woman whom he had thought was the man's right hand but there was none. Instead, Marvolo tilted his head to the side and swept his crimson gaze over Harry’s appearance once more and the corners of his lips twitched into a soft smile. It was a smile that held expectation and a hunger for more and Harry had to look away.

He directed his gaze to the snake on the ground instead just as large as he remembered. _“Hello, Hatchling,”_ the snake hissed, raising her head off the ground.

“ _Hello, Nagini,”_ Harry replied. He figured it couldn’t hurt to be cordial to the giant man-eating snake. They would be sharing the house after all.

“You shall wear this until I announce you,” Marvolo continued, pulling forth a heavy cloak.

Harry accepted it and quirked an eyebrow. “Dramatic much?”

“It is the little things that keep the days interesting,” Marvolo sighed wearily.

Harry snorted and couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped but managed to change it into a cough, he didn’t even want to think about what it meant that he could laugh at a joke made by his former enemy. Harry was aware that this was not the first joke that Marvolo had attempted to make but it was the first that Harry had reacted to.

Gruffly clearing his throat, Harry almost missed the _warm?_ look on Marvolo’s face, maybe not warm but definitely astounded and pleased. He wondered when the last time someone had felt at ease enough to laugh at one of his jokes had been and felt an unwanted twinge of sympathy. Swinging the cloak over his shoulders he clasped it at the front and Marvolo stepped forward to raise his hood. Harry thought the gesture was unnecessary because he could clearly cover his own head but kept frozen and silent at the close proximity.

“ _Now,”_ Marvolo hissed before waving his wand and transformed before Harry's eyes into the snakey monster of his nightmares. It was a terrifying sight to behold. The man's hair shrank into his scalp, his skin turned ghost-like and he grew almost a foot and his skin tightened around his bones, and his nose and lips sank back into his face.

Harry was grateful for the hood covering his face now because he didn’t think he could hold back his horrified look. He was also pretty sure that he was the only one in existence given the privilege of witnessing this transformation and later that night he would probably wonder at the significance of that but for the moment he was trying to reign in his emotions.

Sadly, or maybe purposefully, he wasn’t given much chance because Voldemort --because he was no longer Marvolo at this moment-- had turned and exited the room, giving Harry no choice but to follow with Nagini at his heels. The large refurbished ballroom was still empty but Harry knew it wouldn’t be empty for long. Voldemort stepped onto the dais with the catlike grace that Harry didn’t think was fair. And Harry, uncertain and nervous, stood facing the doors on the ground beside the stage.

His face was still concealed and his entire figure swamped in the extra-large cloak but Harry could easily watch when not but five minutes later all of the masked Death Eaters arrived, many with wives and some with older children in tow. Harry remained still, his heart pounding. Again the constricted feeling of being trapped overwhelmed him and Harry was almost positive that he would have bolted if not for Nagini.

The snake must have sensed his unease or maybe she had been warned of his importance because she kept up a steady stream of hissed gossip about almost all of the minions that arrived that kept him his panicked thoughts distracted. Some of it was truly gruesome gossip but a great deal was humiliating information like who had wet themselves the quickest at being threatened with her presence. He knew that his cloaked presence was gaining questioning looks but those arriving remained silent and dropped to their knees to wait for the rest of the group to arrive. Even the children and wives knelt before Voldemort.

Harry was admittedly shocked at seeing the level of subservience demonstrated and wondered at how Voldemort had done it. Fear was a great contributor but it didn’t inspire this type of loyalty. Maybe there really was more to the Dark side and Voldemort than he had originally thought. Everyone arrived within ten minutes which was also astounding. Punctuality had never been a point of favor for Dumbledore’s Order.

“Rise!” Voldemort demanded in that smooth baritone that seemed to reach every corner of the room. In one fluid movement, everyone stood and it was an oddly captivating sight. Harry refused to turn his head to look up at Voldemort though, no matter how much he wanted to. Instead, he observed the crowd from under the hood of his cloak, again no one wore their masks.

Upfront stood the Malfoy, Nott, and Greengrass families. There were a few others that he recognized from their mugshots printed in the Prophet during the Azkaban breakout like the Lestrange brothers, Rookwood and Dolohov. The Parkinson and Davis families stood just behind them with Blaise Zabini and a woman who could only be his mother. Harry thought he saw the Goyles and Crabbes closer to the wall and he spotted Severus Snape in the second row just behind Lucius Malfoy. The sight of the Potions Master startled Harry and he wasn’t sure how he should act towards the bitter man. Then there was Bellatrix Lestrange looking just as besotted with the man on the stage as ever and her lips twisted in a remnant of her crazed laugh. Just as his anger started to rise though, Voldemort continued to speak and Harry quickly looked away from the crazed witch.

“Welcome, my loyal followers. How it pleases me to see you all standing before me just as eager to see the fruition of our goals as ever. I have called you all here to impart an important piece of information that will most certainly see the tides of the war shift in our favor.” _It’s just temporary!_ Harry mentally insisted. “Allow me to introduce our newest ally.” At this, Harry did glance up at the stage and saw that Voldemort had gestured down to him with his skeletal hand.

“ _Go,”_ Nagini hissed. _“Stand beside him.”_

Harry started at this. _That had not been what they discussed!_ Harry wanted to curse the bastard for putting him on the spot like this. He felt the weight of the outstretched hand enclose around him and his heart beat faster. The significance of standing beside that man before all of his followers and their families was not lost on him. It was declaring his place. Voldemort was showing his minions that Harry was above them just as he had said earlier.

_It’s just temporary!_ Harry mentally insisted as he felt his legs numbly and stiffly move up the steps. Somehow he was standing on the dais now and wasn’t even fully consciously aware of doing so. _What was happening!_ They hadn’t agreed to this. But this was a momentous statement and he was admittedly curious as to how this was going to go.

Still covered by the cloak, Harry stared into the red eyes besides him. They were eerily familiar. The only thing that Marvolo and Voldemort shared. Marvolo had proved different, saner, than Voldemort of the past. _So maybe the two sides shared more than just their eyes?_ He shook himself. This was the monster he had made the deal with though. This was the monster he couldn’t forget no matter what else happened. Harry had known that it was Voldemort he had stood before earlier declaring an alliance, he couldn’t let Marvolo cloud his judgment. But staring into those familiar eyes Harry felt the pulse of energy building between them and wondered if he was just imagining it.

“Our newest ally,” Voldemort continued and Harry realized that his progress onto the dais had only taken about a minute. He felt his blood pulsing and could hear the nervous apprehension of the crowd. Voldemort gave an almost imperceptible nod and Harry realized it was time to drop his cloak. Merlin the bastard really did have a flair for the dramatic, Harry thought bitterly amused.

Taking a breath to still his shaking hands, Harry undid the cloak in one movement to match the dramatic mood, shed the cloak in one flourished movement and tossed it towards the back of the dais. There were multiple gasps at the sight of him but Harry remained locked in a staredown with Voldemort. The bastard had put him on the spot and he was not impressed. He wasn’t about to back down though, he quirked an eyebrow, waiting for the bastards next move. The snake man gave a slightly smug smirk with his lipless mouth as if identifying the challenge in Harry’s eyes.

The energy continued to build between them and it sent tingles down his bones. The man gestured elegantly again for Harry to face the crowd. The energy dying off as they broke eye contact and Harry felt oddly empty without it. Deciding to just roll with it for the moment because a fight wasn’t called for right now, Harry lifted his head proudly. He was not ashamed of his choice after all. He had needed protection and he needed to learn. Adopting the cool and indifferent persona that he had seen Marvolo and the Malfoys portray, he spun smartly to face the crowd.

“Allow me to introduce, Lord Harry Potter-Black-Peverell, Necromancer, and the Darks’ newest ally.” The bastard was smug as he spoke and it was evident as the words draped over Harry like a cape. At the mention of his titles, Harry couldn’t help but smirk a little and raise his ringed hand to brush invisible lint off his embroidered crest to emphasize the points. “I wish for all of you to take note of his placement. From this moment forth, he is above you all. He is second to none but myself and you anger him at your own risk. You will receive no sympathy from me.” Again, the proclamation had not been expected, but Harry strove to keep his face smooth and continued to stare out at the crowd. “His place among us is also to remain secret. If I discover that one of you has mentioned Lord Potter being here, nothing will protect you.”

It was an odd feeling standing above the large crowd, everyone staring up at him with looks of surprise, fear, and awe at his status and inheritance. There were a few that looked spiteful and disgusted but Harry didn’t care too much. But standing next to Voldemort as all of the Dark side looked up at them gave Harry an odd surge of confidence. There was something to be said for having the likes of Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange, and Severus Snape being placed beneath him. It tasted sweet in his mouth.

“I’m sure many of you are wondering how this situation came to light. I will enlighten you. Lord Potter and I came to an arrangement, an alliance, one that is mutually beneficial to both of us. He resides here now as my honored guest in our mutual quest to destroy Albus Dumbledore.” There was heightened murmurs of surprise but it all sounded eager and anticipation thickened the air. “A destruction that will pave the way for the Dark to rise once more. For the Dark to claim our rightful place in the world. For the Dark to step out from the shadows.” There was a loud cheer at these passionate words and Harry felt moved slightly at the speech but had to hold himself back. He didn’t want to give Voldemort any ideas that his manipulation might have influence.

“Our priorities will be changing,” Voldemort continued, his tone turning stricter. Harry was surprised that he was about to conduct an actual meeting and wondered if he should step down. He had been given no indication and so remained standing on the stage a step in front of Voldemort. “We will increase our infiltration within the Ministry and begin taking down Dumbledore from all sides. This means our information must be impeccable. Am I understood?”

“Yes, my Lord,” came the chorused answer.

“It pleases me to hear this, though it seems that there are gaps in our intelligence gathering.” The tone was colder now, more sinister, the voice that Harry best attributed to Voldemort and felt unease flickering in his gut. Things were not going as planned. “Avery! Step forward,” the man hissed and a slender man in his late thirties with russet curls and a neatly trimmed beard stepped forward. The man held his head high despite looking terrified. “You provided me with false information in regards to Lord Potter’s familial claims.” The cold whisper crept into every inch of the room and Harry had to stop himself from shivering.

“ _Stop!”_ Harry snapped out as he saw Voldemort raising his wand, luckily remembering to glance at Nagini briefly to call upon his Parseltongue since it still wasn’t natural for him. The Gathering Room fell deathly silent at his interruption and he felt more than saw the Death Eaters tense as he shifted to fully face Voldemort. _“What happened to this being just an introduction?”_

“ _I’m not requesting you curse him,”_ Voldemort replied. If he had been in his human form, Harry was sure a slight frown would have been disrupting his brow. Harry could feel the energy building between them once again and he could forget their audience.

“ _Not the point. There is no reason to curse him. No one knew about these Lordships. Sirius didn’t even know he was Lord Black, so he couldn’t have known that I would inherit off of him. And the Peverell Line was thought extinct. There is no need to punish him.”_ Voldemort remained silent as he stared at Harry intensely but Harry held his gaze and refused to waver. “ _You said yourself this is a night of ceremony and formality. Families are here. This is not one of your minion meetings.”_

There was a silence that seemed to stretch for hours, the energy hummed and vibrated in the air and Harry felt enlivened, despite the seriousness of the situation. “It seems Avery that you are spoken for,” the lipless mouth twisted into a sinister grin. Harry tensed and stared hard at Voldemort. _What was he saying!_ Harry sensed eyes widening in the crowd to pair with the few muffled gasps. “Since it was Lord Potter that you failed to learn about. I will leave you at his disposal as he continues to learn his craft.” Harry heard Avery whimper softly but didn’t drop his gaze. The crowd faded as he stared into those ruby eyes that turned back to him and hated to admit the eagerness he felt at feeling the energy build again. “Does that sound agreeable to you, Lord Potter?”

_Damn him. Damn him. The rotten bastard!_ Harry cursed in his head. He refrained from clenching his hands and tilted his chin up. He forced himself to ignore the energy that pulled and called at him. He needed to think. He was put on the spot and he knew the part he needed to play at this moment. The part Voldemort was all but forcing him to play. This was his introduction. The first impression as the Darks ally. He couldn’t back away from the challenge gleaming in those eyes. “Very agreeable. Thank you for the welcoming present,” he replied coolly. He must have said the right thing because the red lightened into one of... _approval?_ definitely not happiness or something soft like that, but the look warmed Harry in the oddest way as he smirked coldly.

Voldemort gave a slight nod once again and Harry returned to facing the crowd and glanced down at Avery. The man looked decidedly pale and his gaze kept flickering from Harry’s face to the crest of the Necromancer on his chest. He would have rathered Bellatrix because he would actually practice his craft on her but the man might prove useful, he pondered clinically.

There was silence for a few minutes with the man still standing in front of the crowd at the foot of the stage, as Harry gazed impassively down at him. Suddenly Harry realized that they were all waiting for him to do something. “We shall speak later,” he drawled out in a bored tone he copied from Malfoy and flicked his ringed hand in clear dismissal. Avery bowed, a mixture of relief and nerves battling in his posture, as he backed away.

Nothing unusual sure, this was a follower of Voldemort but the man bowed to him! Avery had bowed to Harry! Voldemort had declared Harry was above them all but Harry had thought it would be more of a protection statement, he hadn’t expected the bowing. He remained impassive so that the delighted flip in his stomach at the action wouldn’t be noticed and took a calming breath. Merlin what was happening to him!

The Gathering concluded shortly after. Voldemort made a few more demands of his followers and reiterated their instructions before the mass of black at the foot of the stage dispersed and Voldemort and Harry were left standing on the stage. Once the ballroom doors shut, Harry whirled on the monster only to find the man already leaving the stage and heading to the small side room. Feeling his anger that he had kept buried engulf him, Harry stormed after him.

Entering the small room, Harry was relieved to see Marvolo, not Voldemort, standing in the room. “Yes?” the man asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“What the bloody hell was that!” Harry shouted.

“Your introduction ceremony. Was that not obvious?”

The man was mocking him. “That was not what we planned! What was with me standing on that stage with you? What was with claiming me second to no one! What the bloody hell was that with Avery?” Harry was fuming and wished he could curse the look off the bastard's face. The man looked positively smug. “This is all your manipulation of me. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. And I won’t stand for it. I will not be backed into corners like that.”

“You promised you would give my offer of joining me a fair evaluation when this was all over. This was simply my way of demonstrating how things would be with you at my side.” The man stepped closer so that they were a foot apart. “And I must say you did magnificently,” the man purred, leaning closer.

Mere inches separated them now. Harry could see different reds reflected in the man's eyes, showing a surprisingly enticing depth to them. Harry denied the flush that crept up his neck and took a step away, crossing his arms to create distance. “Imagine how much better I would have been if I had known and been prepared!”

“You will be in the future. I wished to see how you would react on the spot. If you could handle it.” Harry glared at him and the energy building was intoxicating. “Judging by your magic I would say you are more than equipped to handle it.”

“My magic?”

“Can you not feel it, Harry?” The man asked softly. Harry frowned and the energy pulsed.

“You mean that? Feeling? That energy? That’s my magic?”

“Well yours and mine reacting to each other,” the man corrected. “Mine is bringing yours out, it is why it is felt so intensely when we look at each other. It only happened tonight because I have mine on display, allowing mine to call yours forth and challenge it. It provided quite the show for my followers, I can assure you. I’m surprised they were able to remain standing.” The man began to circle around him and Harry swallowed thickly. “I can teach you how to bring it forth at will, you know. Teach you how to constantly feel your magic, to push it out, to put it on display, to bend others to your will.”

“I am not you. I don’t want others to bend to my will.”

“You can keep telling yourself that. But I saw how you reacted when Avery bowed to you. I saw you soaking in the pleasure of being placed above the others. You can’t lie to me, Harry,” the man whispered coming up behind him, placing his words directly in Harry’s ear. Marvolo’s warm breath tickled his neck. Harry dug his nails into the palm of his hand to suppress the responding shiver. “Your Necromancy and Lordships will already give you a position of respect among the Wizarding World. But being in touch with your magic and expanding it, in addition to your dueling, will make you _untouchable_.” Harry licked his lips. “Just think of the people you could protect with that kind of power,” the man continued to whisper, the breath of his words curling around the shell of his ear. Harry struggled to breathe.

This was just Voldemort trying to manipulate him, Harry scolded himself. Voldemort with Marvolo’s face. He wasn’t so weak-willed as to fall for it though. He didn’t desire power like Voldemort or Dumbledore. He just wanted to be Harry.

“But you were never _just_ Harry, were you?” Marvolo asked, making Harry realize he had spoken the last bit out loud. “You were made for greater things. Extraordinary things. It is time you accept this and embrace it.” Marvolo was suddenly gone and opening the door, leaving Harry feeling lightheaded and breathless. “Oh, and Harry,” the man continued smoothly, ice coating his words now, pausing before stepping out of the room. “Never interrupt me in front of my followers like that again.”

Harry was suddenly alone and his knees gave out. Collapsing onto the sofa he had sat in only three days ago to make a deal with the devil. Gripping his hair and hunching over so his elbows dug into his knees, Harry took a shaky breath.

By Merlin, he was so far in over his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *ink refreshing


	11. Arrange It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dumbledore makes his move and Harry plots his retaliation while starting to experience the effects of not unleashing his powers recently enough. He also has his first private meeting with some Death Eaters and starts to fill the role properly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything is J.K. Rowlings. I only claim the plot. Everything else is hers, all the characters and the magic, all of it. Please let me know what you think though, I encourage feedback of all kinds, just be nice about it!
> 
> So there have been a few comments that I want to address real quick. First off thank you to everyone who has commented, it means a lot to me that you take the time to do so!
> 
> QuiteBelatedly- Voldemort's crimes are the same as in the original story. His priorities aren't quite the same but he will be having to change them a bit. Both Harry and Voldemort will be compromising and altering a bit throughout the course of this story. And I thank you for saying that this is a realistic portrayal. I am trying to keep it that way despite the change of certain factors. I really do think that Harry only cares about those close to him and everyone else just benefits indirectly. And he would do whatever necessary to save and protect those he loves. As for Hermione, like I said goals and priorities will be changing a bit for Voldemort, though he has already admitted that not all spread about him is accurate. So you'll see!
> 
> Swan Song- I'm sorry you see this as crack!fic that you can't take seriously. I'm attempting to remain true to the characters as much as I can. The reason you said you can't take this story seriously is because of Hermione's decision to join the Dark with Harry is where I disagree. First off, Hermione isn't joining the Dark, she is joining Harry. He isn't Dark yet and doesn't agree with Voldemort fully yet. So she is just saying that she will side with her best friend as she has done for the past five years. I believe that is fully within the realm of Hermione's ability and fully in line with her character. And Voldemort even tells Harry that not everything thinks he knows about the Dark is accurate. And as I mentioned in my response to QuiteBelatedly, both Harry and Voldemort will be compromising and adjusting their views a bit and I fully intend on having Hermione assist in that.
> 
> pri - You are correct! At least partially, Young Princes by Little.Miss.Xanda did originally spark the idea in my mind when I read it about a year ago. The whole Harry becomes a Necromancer and looks to the Dark. But I'm attempting to expand on that and look a bit deeper into the politics and the culture of Necromancy and Harry isn't as Dark as in that story nor was he putting on a facade as he was in the that one.
> 
> I'm not certain on the whole mpreg aspect. I'm still debating if I want it to go in that direction or if it should be blood adoption. Not sure yet. Ideas are welcome on that front!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter, I hope to have the next one up by next weekend. Keep the reviews coming!

**Arrange It**

"It seems that your plan to keep your inheritance secret is no longer viable," Marvolo commented calmly over breakfast two days after the Introduction Ceremony.

"What do you mean? I thought you said that your minions wouldn't spill," Harry replied looking up from his eggs. Since last night he had felt an itch under his skin that, according to the journals, indicated the first stage of warning that his powers needed releasing. He was having to consciously ignore the urge to scratch at his skin.

The red eyes narrowed over the edge of the newspaper. "It was not one of mine. Do have more faith in my abilities," he tsked.

Feeling tense, Harry stared nervously at the Daily Prophet in those pale elegant fingers. "Then what are you talking about?"

Not bothering to answer with words, Marvolo merely turned the paper around so that Harry could read the blaring headline.

**HARRY POTTER GOES DARK: Dumbledore claims Boy-Who-Lived is a Necromancer**

"Fucking Dumbledore!" Harry seethed, ripping the paper out of Marvolo's hands to scan the article.

It was Skeeter's work but she didn't feel as harsh towards him as she once was. Maybe she was a little fearful of possible repercussions if the accusations proved true? The article was a plea from Dumbledore for the public to be on guard and that Harry already had two confirmed kills. The victims being his poor muggle uncle who had been raising him for fifteen years and Hestia Jones who had only been attempting to help him. Skeeter even commented that Harry was unavailable for comment and that the DMLE would begin the search for Harry not to execute but to merely question to put the public's mind at ease.

Fuming, Harry took several deep breaths. Drawing on the meditation practices his ancestors wrote about for control. All the while, Marvolo sat pristinely at the other end of the table, calmly observing.

"It seems Ms. Skeeter might wish for the other side of the story," the man finally said.

"Hm…" Harry sighed. "Suppose it's only fair to clear the air on what really happened. Might as well contact the DMLE and get started on destroying Dumbledore's reputation."

"Lucius will contact and arrange a meeting on neutral ground between yourself, Ms. Skeeter and Madame Bones. I can't imagine either will wish to delay this meeting."

Harry just nodded, staring blankly at his plate trying to mentally prepare and ignore the itching that had gotten worse since his rush of anger.

"I would recommend calling on Avery and Lucius this afternoon to strategize."

"Why Avery?" Harry asked.

"I do believe you remember him being 'gifted' to you only a few days ago?" Harry glared but it was ignored. "It is my belief that you don't actually plan on using your abilities on him. Which is beneficial because he is quite useful in regards to politics and laws."

"So even though I don't plan on killing him, I still have to do something with him?"

"Why Harry, he was your welcoming present. Are you telling me you didn't like it?" Harry growled at the look of pure innocence that graced Marvolo's face but the look was just so strange to witness that he fought to keep his lips from twitching. "Just consider him a servant until his punishment has been fulfilled."

"Fine, I expect both of them this afternoon before our dueling practice."

"They will be here. Though I advise not letting on not wanting to kill him. I find it's better to keep them on their toes."

~*~

Curled in the armchair that he had claimed in the library, Harry rubbed a hand over his face, putting the latest journal aside. He only had one left that he planned on finishing it tonight. Luckily, he was more hopeful for his future. He wouldn't be as lonely as Ashur had been because since he was a type of liaison between Life and Death, he would be able to communicate with his Necromancer ancestors and even Sirius and his parents. Harry was beyond excited for that but each of his ancestors had cautioned to speak with their Master before anything else. And to do that he had to control his magic. It was what Marvolo had offered to teach but luckily there was a guidebook for it so Harry wouldn't have to ask for help once again.

Absently, Harry rubbed at his skin trying to relieve the itching sensation. He had already started on the breathing exercises and tomorrow morning he planned on starting the physical movements that based on the pictures looked like a mix of Tai Chi and yoga.

Summoning some parchment and quill, Harry decided to make a To-Do list since he knew Avery and Lucius would be arriving soon and he didn't want to look like he had nothing else going on.

_TO-DO_

_Control magic_

_Have interview_

_Talk to Kreacher and Dobby_

_Grimmauld_

_Wand_

_Set up a meeting with friends_

_Visit Potter vaults_

_Visit Black vaults_

_Research Deathly Hallows_

_Stone_

_Wand_

_Meet Death_

The Deathly Hallows were something that the "Three Brothers" had confirmed existing in each of their journals. And Ignotus discussed plans of passing his Cloak on to his son, who wasn't a Necromancer but was still worthy of it by being a descendant. Ignotus also lamented how his brothers' possessions had been lost and how they needed to be found in order to utilize the highest Necromancy power. Having read the description of the Cloak, Harry knew for a fact that his Invisibility Cloak was the one Ignotus spoke of.

Lucius and Avery had entered the library halfway through the list but Harry enjoyed watching them stand before him waiting to be acknowledged, waiting for orders, out of the corner of his eye. So he soaked in the feeling while he finished his list. He was also pretty positive that Marvolo was also in the room but just invisibly watching, Harry could almost feel the Dark wizards presence.

Finally, he looked up at the two men and smiled innocently, not bothering to uncurl in the chair. Lucius looked like he was sucking a lemon at the snub and Avery looked nervous. "Thank you so much for meeting with me," Harry finally said, like the two had a choice. "Sit," he continued, gesturing to the couch. Lucius dipped his head regally and swiftly sat, while Avery bowed once again before sitting.

Harry observed them a bit longer, enjoying the fidgets they tried to hide by adjusting robes and smoothing nonexistent wrinkles. "Are you aware of why you are here?" Best not to divulge too much unknowingly.

"Our Lord -"

"Your Lord, not mine," Harry interrupted. Both men widened their eyes in disbelief. "I am his ally, I do not serve him. And surely you remember that I have my own Master." Avery paled even more. It didn't go well with his russet curls and Lucius Malfoy swallowed hard.

"Of course," the blonde continued. "My Lord said you wished to respond to the article in today's paper. I have contacted Ms. Skeeter and Madame Bones requesting a private meeting. Gringotts has been suggested."

"Arrange it." It would give him the chance to visit his vaults after.

Lucius nodded again. "The Dark Lord also mentioned strategizing."

Harry flicked his gaze to Avery and wondered if it was normal for Lucius to just commandeer a meeting or if it was because Avery was too petrified. "Yes, I'd like to hear your ideas on how to address this interview and see if they match mine."

Harry didn't really have much thought on the interview but he didn't want Lucius getting too big of a head. Lucius shifted and adjusted his robes for the fifth time since sitting down. "Of course. It really depends on how much you wish to reveal. Such as if you want the world to know of your alliance."

"No, that will not be released at this time."

"I agree, that is for the best." It was nice to have a Malfoy sucking up for approval, Harry thought. "The public is still in shock over the article, understandably so since you are their Golden Boy. I believe it is best to play into that perception. They are still feeling guilty over vilifying you for a year and if the article proves true, they are not in a rush to be on your bad side." Harry smirked at that. "My suggestion is to play into your innocence on the matter, your naivety over the whole thing. Gain public sympathy, however possible."

It was a good idea and Harry could already see the parts over the summer where he could play upon his desperation and fear to gain sympathy points while 'unknowingly' casting blame on the Headmaster. "Avery, your thoughts?"

"Sir?" the man jolted slightly.

"Your thoughts on Malfoy's suggestion?" The man still seemed to struggle to speak and Harry frowned, finally swinging his legs to the ground to properly look at Avery. "Tell me, Avery, why did you believe I called upon you today?"

"To fulfill my punishment, sir."

"Correct. However, it seems you were expecting something more. Am I proving too mundane for you?"

"I-I'm sorry, Sir?"

"No, no, apparently it is I who should be apologizing. It seems I am not living up to expectations. Do you wish for me to just kill you and be done with it?" Avery shook his head, his eyes wide. "Good, because I hadn't wished to kill you outright. I wished to make another use out of you. I've been told you're well versed in politics and legislation. Though I've yet to see that claim prove believable."

"No, Sir, it is," Avery assured, clinging to the lifeline he saw.

"Hmm...Anyway, I decided to have you work your punishment through utilizing your skills. Though, again, I'm starting to doubt that decision. Do you quiver like this at the Wizengamot in order to see your laws through?" Avery looked ashamed and Harry didn't allow him a defense. "Besides, I'm still learning my craft. No use rushing things just yet," Harry finished smirking, watching how stiffly both men sat. "Now. Your thoughts."

The man swallowed and took a breath, no longer looking as pale. "I believe it is the best course of action. It wouldn't do to incite panic. So portraying an innocent teenager will serve you well. It is my assumption that you plan on taking your Wizengamot seats with your titles?" Harry nodded. "Then appearing more naive will catch more unaware and might let you pass more legislation."

"Speaking of legislation, I'd like you to dig up any laws regarding Necromancers and magical inheritances. This needs to be a top priority. Request assistance if you need some. I'd like a progress report in two days."

"It will be done."

"Wonderful. Now, that is all I really needed to discuss with you." Harry continued standing, pleased to watch the other two stood immediately. Harry glanced at his watch. He really hoped that the dueling practice would prove an adequate distraction from the itching. "I've got another meeting anyway. Voldemort?" He called out. The man, because he was in his human form, turned visible on the other side of the coffee table and Avery and Lucius immediately dropped to their knees.

" _Very impressive,"_ Marvolo hissed, not looking at the two kneeling men.

" _I'm glad you enjoyed the show."_

" _I did indeed. Now for dueling, do you wish for them to watch?"_

" _How would that benefit me?"_

Marvolo chuckled darkly and the kneeling men stiffened.  _"Despite the limited practice, you are becoming an impressive opponent. For them to witness, the rest will soon learn that you are being trained personally by me."_

" _Quite the gossips you employ."_

" _It does keep things interesting. But Nagini is the worst."_ Marvolo chuckled again and Harry couldn't help but snicker, remembering how the snake gossiped during the Introduction Ceremony.

"Malfoy. Avery. Perhaps you would like to attend Potters' dueling practice?"

~*~

"Dobby! Kreacher!"

Night had fallen and Harry was enjoying some tea that Tobi had brought him. Scrubbing in the shower and exhausting himself in training had helped with the itching but it was starting to return once again. He had finally finished the last Peverell journal and was eager to start on the guidebooks, or at least progress further in the magic control guide, but he needed to focus on other things first.

The two elves popped in front of him and Harry could already see the difference in Kreacher. While still noticeably old, the elf looked enlivened and cleaner. Dobby looked just as devoted as always.

"Master Harry Potter!" "Master Lord Black."

"Hello, I hope you two are doing well. I wanted a progress report on how things are going."

"Grimmauld Place is being much better, Master Lord Black," Kreacher began. "It is being fully cleaned."

"Great. I would like to hold a meeting there in three days. If you could deliver these letters to the same people you delivered my last message to. Again, make sure you are not seen. I'll be needing you to transport them all to the house as well. So, be ready for that." Kreacher bowed. "Now, what about my wand?"

Dobby's ears drooped and Kreacher looked to the ground. "We is being finding Master Harry Potter's wand," Dobby began. "But it is being kept by Dumblydore at all times."

"Damnit," Harry groaned. The itching started flaring up again and he rubbed at his arms in irritation. "Thank you. I assumed he had it but I had hoped it would be easier to get. Alright. Thank you two again. I'll take care of that for now." Harry trailed off when he heard a tapping noise coming from his window. Curiously, Harry turned to look only to let out a delighted whoop at seeing the familiar white plumage of his Hedwig. Rushing to the window, Harry opened it for Hedwig to land on his shoulder. The responsive hoot she gave before nipping affectionately at his ear and hair released a large weight off his shoulders he hadn't realized he had been carrying.

"That's all for right now," Harry said, turning again to the elves. "Thank you, Dobby. Thank you, Kreacher." The two elves disappeared and Harry focused his attention on his familiar. "Oh, Hedwig, I've missed you so much. I was so worried but relieved when Dobby said you escaped from the Dursleys." Hedwig hooted once again. Harry settled into his chair once again and Hedwig hopped onto the chairs arm instead of his shoulder. "Hedwig, so much has happened," Harry continued, running his fingers over her feathers. Calling Tobi for some owl treats, he then proceeded to tell Hedwig everything as he fed her treats. No matter what happened, Harry was certain that he would always have Hedwig with him.


	12. Continue, Lord Potter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry has an interview in retaliation to Dumbledore going to the Prophet about him. He gets to start sowing the first seeds of doubt against the beloved Headmaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything is J.K. Rowlings. I only claim the plot. Everything else is hers, all the characters and the magic, all of it. Please let me know what you think though, I encourage feedback of all kinds, just be nice about it!
> 
> Apologies on this chapter being rather short. I have mixed feelings about this chapter but I hope you all still enjoy it. The next one should be up next week.

**Continue, Lord Potter**

Gringotts thankfully wasn’t very busy when Harry arrived on its front steps courtesy of Tobi. Swiftly striding forward, he walked to the front teller but before he could even open his mouth, the goblin spoke. “Ah, Lord Potter-Black-Peverell, your room is ready and the other two have already arrived.”

Surprised, Harry quickly recovered. “Thank you. I appreciate your cooperation. Could you please see if Griphook will be available to take me to the Potter vaults afterward?”

“It will be done.”

“Thank you,” Harry replied with a nod of his head before following another goblin down the hall to the meeting rooms. Reaching the door, Harry readjusted his robes. The itching was more intense today and Harry hoped he’d be able to keep his temper in check. It would not do to mess up right now. Playing on the innocent, naive, card, he was wearing nice but not expensive open robes with a crisp button-up, slacks, and his Gryffindor tie. 

Taking another deep breath, Harry pushed open the door. It was a simple room with straight, lightly cushioned chairs surrounding a modest square table. Harry immediately recognized the blonde curls of Rita Skeeter and only identified the other woman who sat straight-backed with a monocle by her picture. It was clear to see how she had ascended the ranks in the Auror department though. 

“Madame Bones, Ms. Skeeter,” Harry greeted politely when both women turned to look at him. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.” Focusing on the women was helping distract him from the itch under his skin and so he willed all of his thoughts on the present moment. 

“You can hardly expect us to decline the invitation,” Madame Bones began, standing to shake his hand. An action that pleased Harry because it showed that even if she bought the story Dumbledore was telling she wasn’t afraid of him. His respect grew for the woman. 

“Yes, there were some pretty steep accusations made against your person, Mr. Potter,” Rita chimed in, making no move to shake his hand as Harry and Madame Bones took their seats. 

“Lord, actually.”

“I beg your pardon?” Madame Bones questioned.

Harry flashed his ringed hand. “It’s Lord. Lord Potter-Black-Peverell.”

“Part of the story you shall no doubt share?” Madame Bones asked. Rita looked ready to drool at the sight of the rings. Harry gave a shy smile to pair with his nod.

“My apologies, Lord Potter, there were some steep accusations made,” Rita continued, gripping her quill eagerly since the room was charmed to not allow the quill to operate independently. 

Harry gave a sheepish nod, fidgeting with his tie while he did. “Yes, I read that and I’d really like to set the story straight.” Spotting a pitcher of water, Harry poured himself a glass. The movement was helping quell the itch but he didn’t want to appear shifty or untrustworthy with moving too much.

“So, Lord Potter, are you, as Dumbledore claimed, a Necromancer?” Madame Bones began. 

“Yes.”

Both women stiffened but Madame Bones remained outwardly calm and Rita swallowed hard. “Forgive me, Lord Potter, but it is difficult to believe such statements,” Madame Bones continued. “There has not been one in centuries.”

Harry huffed a chuckle. “That’s me, I guess. Always doing the impossible. Would seeing my mark help you?”

The women nodded, seeming to hold their breath as Harry loosened his tie and undid the buttons of his shirt and pulled his shirt over to show the tattoo. There was a sharp intake of breath from both women. Harry gave a weak smile, hand ruffling his hair nervously, before starting to button up his shirt once again. The movement of the clothes gave some friction against his skin relieving the itch only minutely. 

“So is what Dumbledore also said true?” Rita pressed eagerly, he noted her tucking her wand back up her sleeve but couldn’t determine anything unusual happening and the rooms wards prevented anything harmful so brushed it off. 

“You’ll have to be more specific. The Headmaster says a lot.”

“That you have killed your uncle and Hestia Jones,” Rita clarified impatiently. 

Harry gave a suffering sigh, running a hand through his hair, preparing for the performance he was about to give. “Yes. At least about my uncle. There was a woman that Dumbledore had with him but I wasn’t aware of her name.”

“Lord Potter, you realize what you are admitting to?” Madame Bones asked sadly. 

“I think it would be best for you to hear what actually happened before jumping the gun too quickly.”

“Very well, Lord Potter. Your story,” Madame Bones conceded with a gesture of her hand and nod of her head. Skeeter had her quill poised and inked, waiting for his words. 

“It all started at the beginning of the summer really. After what happened at the Ministry, Dumbledore sent me back to my relatives. I started becoming sick, feverish, nauseous. I was terrified. I thought I had some deadly illness. My relatives didn’t know what to do, so locked me in my room in case my freaky magic disease infected them. And it all culminated the night before my birthday. It hurt so badly.”

Harry stared at his hands as though lost in the memory of the pain and terror. “Were you not told of magical inheritances and what occurs?” Rita interrupted. 

“No. Well, I had heard about magical inheritances around the school but nothing concrete since it’s so rare. And Dumbledore wasn’t responding to my letters for answers.” The women both frowned and Madame Bones jotted something onto her own parchment. Harry inwardly cheered, the first motion to bring Dumbledore down.

“Continue, Lord Potter,” the monocled woman said. 

“Right. So, I woke up on my birthday and felt amazing. It was incredible. I didn’t even need my glasses. So I went for a shower and saw my mark. Would you believe that I didn’t know what it was?” Harry chuckled deprecatingly. “I wasn’t raised with wizards and wasn’t familiar with the stories. And by the time I got to Hogwarts, it wasn’t mentioned except for being scary children's stories. So I had no idea. Anyway, then my uncle came in yelling for me to get out of the bathroom and when I got out he had pushed me against the wall. You must understand, my relatives aren’t exactly kind and they hate magic and anyone involved with it.” Again, both women frowned and Rita’s hand was a blur. “So I’m against the wall and he’s yelling at me about how ungrateful I am and then...I don’t know. I got angry and reached out to push him off and then….” Harry faltered and ran his hands over his face. “And then he was dead.” Harry made sure his voice cracked to convey his nonexistent grief. “I didn’t know what was happening and then Dumbledore and Mad-Eye Moody arrived and stunned me.”

“Alastor was there?” Madame Bones clarified. 

“Yeah, he was there when I woke up too.” Harry squeezed his eyes shut and ran his hands over his pant legs as though nervous but really it was relieving the itch that was starting to become a burning sensation.

“What happened when you woke up, Lord Potter?” Rita pressed, sounding surprisingly gentle. Maybe he was winning the caustic journalist over?

“I...I woke up and I… I was tied to a chair in some basement behind bars. It was terrifying. I was still only in my boxers and I was so confused,” Harry whimpered, hands in his hair again letting his true feelings of the memory leak through. “And then Dumbledore, Mad-Eye, Kingsley, and some woman. I guess it was Hestia Jones. They all arrived and started saying how I was Dark and how they would fix me. But they still didn’t tell me what was happening or why! And then they said how they would do a… a Binding, I think they called it, and make it right.”

Rita gasped. “The Headmaster was going to bind your inheritance?”

Harry gave a puzzled nod, playing on his naivety of a week ago. “Yeah...I guess so. Is that bad?”

“Lord Potter, binding an inheritance will eventually kill the wizard or witch,” Madame Bones explained swiftly.

Harry let his eyes go comically wide. “Bloody hell. Well, I guess that explains the next part,” Harry sighed and fiddled with this tie. “Again, I didn’t know what was happening and all four were raising their wands and starting to chant something and this yellow light was forming...And I just...I don’t know...I got that feeling I had with my uncle and suddenly the woman was on the ground and the other three were running away calling me a Demon and then…” Harry took a faltering pause, quickly flitting his gaze between the two women before looking away.

“What happened then?” Madame Bones pressed, her voice soft.

“They Crucio’d me,” Harry whispered brokenly. “They kept doing it. For days they would come and cast it repeatedly. I didn’t even know why,” Harry muttered, letting his eyes go wet, an action helped by the intensity of the itching that he was having to ignore.

“Do you realize what you are accusing these men of?” the Head of the DMLE breathed. 

“I would swear on my magic that I’m not lying. They cast it at me repeatedly.”

“Did Dumbledore cast the curse?” Rita asked eagerly. Harry opened his mouth only to pause and frown. “I don’t remember...I know Kingsley and Mad-Eye did for sure….but I can’t remember Dumbledore being there aside from the first time.” Harry tried not to show how pissed he was at not being certain but now that he thought about the time in the basement, he had only ever seen the Headmaster on the first day. The man had just sent his lackeys to do the dirty work after that. Harry mollified himself with the knowledge that even if it wasn’t an immediate takedown he was still implicating the Headmaster and that would still do damage. Slowly destroying the old man would be far more satisfying anyway, he told himself.  “It was only when I was found by someone loyal that I was able to getaway. I won’t release their name, I don’t want potential backlash to affect them….I still don’t even have my wand,” Harry muttered as though an afterthought. The women nodded, though Skeeter looked disappointed at not having names or certain proof of Dumbledore. “I managed to come here to Gringotts and that's when I learned everything about my Lordships and I even got journals from the previous Necromancers on how to control my abilities and learn what I can actually do.”

“Thank you for your account, Lord Potter,” Madame Bones began. “I am truly sorry for your treatment upon receiving your inheritance. Fortunately, you will not face legal repercussions as those with inheritances are granted some leniency in the beginning. And given the circumstances around the cause of death, I believe that a court would grant clemency. I cannot grant you the same leniency in future circumstances. Though if legal actions are taken, you will have to face the court.” Harry nodded, showing that he understood and tried to get his face to show how grateful he was. “As for your attackers, Kingsley and Alastor will be brought forth and tried for their crimes. And an investigation regarding Albus’ involvement will begin.”

Harry hated that Dumbledore wouldn’t go down immediately but knew this information would help to begin the seeds of doubt for future usage. “Thank you for hearing me out, Madame.”

“A most intriguing story, Lord Potter, and sworn to your magic too. Delightful,” Rita gushed. Harry decided not to clarify that he hadn’t actually sworn anything only that he would be willing to. “Now, can you give us any insight into what you’ve learned from the journals? Forgive us, but no one was alive when the last Necromancers were here and there are some frightful tales. Care to enlighten us?”

Harry shifted, trying to appear hesitant. “I can try. There isn’t much I can tell as of yet. I’ve only had a week.”

“Of course, of course. Anything will be better than nothing,” Rita assured him, quill ready once again. 

“Well, I’ve learned that my line, the Peverell line specifically, was Chosen and Blessed by Death, marking us as his Children,” Harry began speaking slowly as though trying to recite from memory. “But only those who fulfilled certain criteria that I’m not comfortable divulging just yet. And well, we act as a liaison from my understanding between Life and Death, while also fulfilling our Masters’, Death, wishes. It is true that we can take Life but we can also grant and prolong it. Necromancers provide a balance, I suppose.”

“Fascinating,” Rita breathed. 

“And we can commune with those passed on. I look forward to speaking with my parents when I master that.”

“You can speak to the Dead?” Madame Bones interjected. 

“Yes, well at least my predecessors were capable and I hope to achieve the same.”

“Is it possible for others to talk to the dead through you?” the stern woman pressed. 

Harry tilted his head, recalling brief mentions of it in the journals. “I believe so, yes,” Harry glanced at the stiff woman and remembered how she had lost all of her family outside of her niece, Susan. “When I master that skill I can assist you in speaking with your family if you wish.”

A jerky nod and rapid blinks followed that offer. “Yes, Lord Potter, that would be appreciated.”

“Would you be willing to extend that service to others?” Rita cut in. 

“Sure,” Harry shrugged. “I see no reason to not provide others with closure. I see it as being a Child of Death, part of the liaison job description,” he joked with a boyish grin.

“Splendid. There will be countless people who will seek you out,” Rita raved, focusing on her parchment as she wrote. 

“I only wish to use my inheritance to the best of my ability and make the wizarding world better and help those in it,” Harry replied innocently, this meeting was going far better than he could have hoped. He was curious to see how Dumbledore would try to twist his noble and kindhearted offer.  

“Ever the Golden Boy, aren’t you? I can obviously see those claims of you being Dark are absurd,” Rita chuckled.

Harry played the part in ducking his head sheepishly with a blush. “Necromancers are just horribly misunderstood. I’m hoping to change those perceptions.”

“And I’m sure you will,” Madame Bones commented kindly. “I know Susan has always spoken favorably of you and she credits her high Defense O.W.L score to your teaching.”

“I’m glad she did well. She is a dedicated, hard worker. But what do you mean her O.W.L score?”

The monocled woman frowned. “They were mailed out at the beginning of the week. Susan and her friends already have their Hogwarts letters. You haven’t received your results?”

“No,” Harry replied bitterly not needing to act disturbed by this news. The itching flared and he had to use all his willpower not to whimper as it did. He imagined it would be so easy to let loose and enjoy that icy fire. He shook himself of those thoughts. He had to focus, these women were not who he was angry with. “Who would I contact for that?”

“I will look into that personally, Lord Potter.”

“Thank you, Madam Bones.”

“It is the least I can do.”

Harry gave a smile. “Would you also be able to track down my Hogwarts letter too?”

Madam Bones looked down sadly and looked uncomfortable at that request. Rita’s quill was documenting the entire exchange. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, Lord Potter. But you won’t be able to return to Hogwarts this year.”

“Why not?” Harry asked frowning. He had suspected that he might not be able to upon the insistence of Dumbledore. But now Madame Bones was saying it.

“For a few reasons. Your Lordship claims make you ineligible since the Wizengamot meets at any time it would be a distraction from your studies. It is why most don’t claim their title until after graduation.” Harry frowned sadly, looking at the rings on his fingers. “It’s not a very known rule since the circumstances for an underaged wizard to be emancipated magically to even have the choice to claim the titles are incredibly rare. I believe it’s only happened two or three times.” Harry sighed but nodded. “Your inheritance would also be a factor. I know you have no malicious intentions but we wouldn’t be able to take the risk of any accidents occurring. Luckily with your O.W.L results, you technically don’t need to continue your education, and you can take your N.E.W.T.s privately.”

This piqued his interest. He could study at his own pace. That would be fantastic. “I understand and studying at my own pace will probably be best. I...I was just hoping to be Quidditch Captain this year…” he sighed mournfully, fully embracing the troubles of a typical sixteen-year-old boy. 

The stern woman gave him a fond look and gave a soft smile that took many years off her face. Harry was certain he had both women on his side now. He gave another sigh. “Were there any other questions you wish to ask?”

“No, I believe I am satisfied. I look forward to continued correspondence between us and I will see you at the next Wizengamot session,” the Head of the DMLE said standing. Harry quickly stood out of respect. 

Rita also stood, but Harry doubted it was out of respect for the other woman, and began packing her quill and notepad. “Yes, for the moment, this will do nicely. I hope we can have a future interview when you have progressed in your training. It’s always best to keep the public informed. Now, I’m off to get this off to print in time for tomorrow’s paper.”

Harry waved them both off before letting out a relieved breath after the door shut. “That went pretty well,” he said to the empty room. Gripping his arms Harry rubbed furiously at them, digging his fingers into his skin, trying to take away the itch and burn. He really needed to master his control soon or he wouldn’t be able to have control for much longer. He hoped that Tobi would be able to get him some kind of potion to relieve this feeling or he would go mad. Taking another breath for composure, he had other business at the bank after all, Harry went to see Griphook. It was time to visit his family vaults. 


	13. It's Just Strategy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The article by Skeeter has published and Harry practices his magic more. Then he meets with Avery and his helpers and also meets with his friends and gets updated on how the other side is fairing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything is J.K. Rowlings. I only claim the plot. Everything else is hers, all the characters and the magic, all of it. Please let me know what you think though, I encourage feedback of all kinds, just be nice about it!
> 
> Keep up the reviews, it really means a lot! And I'm glad everyone seems to be enjoying this.

**It’s Just Strategy**

 

**POTTER CONFIRMS NECROMANCY: Harry Potter speaks about his magical inheritance but insists he isn’t Dark**

Harry glanced at the headline and quirked an eyebrow. It was a pleasant distraction from the feeling of his skin wanting to combust. “I don’t remember actually saying I wasn’t Dark, just that Necromancers were misunderstood.”

“It is a well-done article. It seems Ms. Skeeter might be looking to get in your favor,” Marvolo commented, sipping his morning coffee.

The only thing Harry wasn’t fond of was the picture. The article was perfect, it painted him as the naive, desperate, Golden Child the Wizarding World still expected him to be. The picture actually benefited the portrayal as well, he just couldn’t remember a camera. He supposed Rita’s movement with her wand made sense now.

It was a picture of when Harry was showing his Mark. His Gryffindor tie still dangled around his neck as the picture showed him pulling his unbuttoned shirt to the side. His eyes wide and innocently pleading with a look of hopeful approval, while his free hand messed with his hair. His mark was bold and clear, leaving no doubt of the claims.

“I didn’t know she was taking a picture though. She should know not to take too much liberty,” Harry scowled slightly before briefly scanning the article. Not everything that had been discussed had been included, like how his O.W.Ls weren’t sent out nor how he wasn’t returning to Hogwarts. He wondered if she was saving those for another article to come out later.

“What are your plans?” Marvolo asked at the end of the meal.

“Practice. I’m working on control.” He needed to unleash some of his power to relieve the maddening feeling. “And then meeting with Avery to see what he has gathered.”

“I noticed you were up earlier today.”

“You said yourself that physical fitness was beneficial in terms of dueling endurance and my books say the same. So I’ve decided to start running. Quidditch gave me a foundation and your dueling practice helps but I enjoyed it this morning. So I’d like to continue.” The running also helped relieve the burning and itching and the desires to let loose with his magic. It was only a temporary solution though since as soon as he returned to his room the desire and itch were back in full force. He had almost clawed his skin off in the shower that morning it was getting so bad.

“No need for such a defense. I fully approve. Occasionally, I might join you.” Harry couldn’t stop his eyebrows rising but he wasn’t as opposed as he probably should have been. Harry hated to admit that he was actually enjoying their dueling and the meals they shared were fairly enjoyable.

Harry smirked a little. “Well you can join but whether you can keep up is another story.” The glare and challenge flaring in those red eyes made Harry laugh outright.

It was two hours later that Harry found himself seated in the gardens outside of Slytherin Manor practicing the meditative breathing exercises needed for control. Seated was actually a very loose description, contorted was the more apt description. He was in one of the poses that the guidebooks suggested and the concentration it took to hold the pose while focusing on his breathing wasn’t providing enough of a distraction.

He felt thirsty for the heady rush, he dreamed of the cool embrace, he longed for the detached observation that could take him out of his own head. He had to master this soon or he would lose control.

Harry faced a rose bush. Concentrating on the vibrant red color of the head, the delicate softness of the petals, the rich green of the stems and leaves. Breathe. In. Out. Breathe. In. Out. Tentatively, Harry looked deeper into himself. The book and journals described the process of calling forth the icy fire by finding his center. Weylyn Peverell, Ashur’s grandson, had been the first to really describe the process in his journals and concentration was vital.

Last night, he had reached his center for the first time but he hadn’t interacted with it. So it was a little easier today to seek out the warmth he remembered feeling. Closing his eyes, Harry inwardly searched for the deadly green flame that looked more like a caged wildfire. Reaching it, Harry touched the flames and took a shaky breath at the overpowering rush it gave him. It set each of his nerves aflame in the most comforting embrace.

Determined to not lose himself in the touch of his own magic, Harry concentrated. Mentally pinching and dragging forth a flickering tendril, bringing it to the surface. His magic didn’t seem to like being corralled. It fought to rush the opening he was giving it with all it had but Harry held firm. He could feel the sweat trickling down his face but he ignored it. If he couldn’t control his own magic then what hope does he have? Taking another deep breath, he focused his control. He wasn’t sure how long it took to finally beat his magic into submission but he managed it and when he felt the icy fire tickling his skin once more the soothing balm it provided was immediate. He opened his eyes and stared at the rose bush.

Concentrate. Breathe. In. Out. Concentrate.

The book described the action as calling on the life force of whatever he wished. Calling on it and drawing it to himself. It was easier with touch and easier to control but it could be done without it. Focusing on one flower head, sweat gathering on his brow and neck, his back and buttocks were stiff and sore from his position but he couldn’t focus on that. The heady feeling was returning and his mind was becoming detached, so he knew things were going right, but he couldn’t lose control, he couldn’t bask in the feeling of power.

Slowly, like a fisherman with a fish on a hook, he reeled in what he was sure was the roses life source. It looked like a faintly shimmering aura if he looked hard. Apparently, this ability would increase with practice. It seemed to be working though because as he watched, the petals began to shrivel, the vibrant color began to fade. It happened faster than Harry would have liked that the rose was nothing more than a dry, wrinkled, brown crust.

Harry let out a laugh of celebration, punching the sky in victory. He had done it! He had controlled it! And the itching and burning had ceased.

His sigh of relief turned to one of dismay when he saw that it wasn’t just the flower head but the entire rose bush that had died and a few of the roses on the nearby bushes had started to fade as well. Not quite as good but he still controlled his magic and that was what mattered at the moment. He didn’t know how to return Life yet but he hoped to return the rose bush to its former glory once again.

“Impressive,” the voice jolted Harry out of his observation. He untwisted his limbs and turned to see Marvolo standing a few feet away with Avery and two men he recognized as the Lestrange brothers.

Harry grimaced. “Eh, I meant to just do a flower, not the whole bush.” Avery and the Lestrange brothers did not look comforted as they eyed the dead rose bush. “Oh well, practice makes perfect, eh?” Harry continued easily, enjoying the Death Eaters discomfort. “I trust you have something of value to report?”

“Yes, Sir,” Avery replied looking far too eager to please for a middle-aged man.

“Excellent. To the library?” he asked Marvolo who dipped his head and turned to walk. Harry easily caught up and walked beside him with the three Death Eaters trailing them. It was another indicator of Harry’s place ahead of them but he didn’t find himself shying away from the statement.

“ _It was still an impressive feat of skill, despite it not going as you wished,”_ Marvolo commented in Parseltongue.

“ _Thanks. I look forward to continued improvement,”_ Harry replied easily, his ability with Parseltongue was definitely improving since his arrival. The compliment still felt strange though. _“I will restore the bush when I learn how.”_

“ _It’s not a concern. My elves will take care of it.”_

“ _Why are we talking in Parseltongue?”_

“ _I enjoy making my Death Eaters nervous.”_

Harry glanced over his shoulder at the terrified men _. “Keeps things interesting?”_ he asked with an amused laugh. The responding twitch of lips and flush of pride and pleasure that flickered in Marvolo’s eyes made him warm.

Marvolo left them in the library with a reminder that dueling practice would be in an hour. Tobi arrived thankfully with a sandwich ready for him. Once alone, Harry claimed his armchair and gestured for the men to sit. Surprisingly, all three bowed before sitting even though the Lestrange brothers’ bow wasn’t as deep. Avery chose the chair on Harry’s left and the Lestrange brothers sat on the couch on his right. To cover his surprise and enjoyment of having all three bow to him, he curled a little tighter into the armchair.

“I believe introductions are necessary before we proceed,” Harry began before taking a bite of his sandwich, his good mood over relieving himself of the itching that had plagued him for days and accomplished some control over his skills leaking out. “From the looks of it, Avery chose you two to help him. I can only assume this partnership will continue. So we will be seeing each other often.”

Harry nodded at the Lestrange brother farthest from him. “Rodolphus Lestrange,” the man replied. The infamous husband of Bellatrix, Harry mused. The man didn’t seem as deranged as his wife but he had tortured Neville’s parents. Trying to see past that, Harry took in the dark curls pulled back and tied at his neck, his dark blue eyes, and his worn and thin appearance. Azkaban had not been kind to the once handsome man.

“Rabastan Lestrange,” the brother closest to him continued the introduction, drawing Harry’s gaze. The only difference was that Rabastan kept his curly hair short, framing his face and was obviously a few years younger. Harry kept his face blank turning to Avery.

“Lennox Avery,” the man replied.

“Great. You all, obviously, know who I am. I would like to make one thing clear before we continue,” Harry said turning to pierce the brothers with a hard stare. “While I can understand why Avery chose you two to assist him, let me clear the air by saying I’m not thrilled at your presence. It was because of your actions that one of my closest friends grew up without parents, in a situation far worse than mine.” The brothers actually looked guilty and repentant. “Luckily for you, I hate your wife far more. So, for the course of this alliance that I have with your Lord, I can deal with you two civilly if you keep Bellatrix out of my sight. Is that understood?”

Looking far too grateful the brothers nodded. “You will not see her,” Rodolphus promised.

“Be sure I don’t, or you might find yourself newly widowed.” Oddly, Rodolphus didn’t seem terribly upset over that but he nodded anyway. “Now, what have you learned?” He continued, turning to Avery and taking another bite of his sandwich.

The man in question pulled out some parchment from his pocket and enlarged the stack. Harry tried to keep his face impassive, inwardly cheering that he only had to sit through the highlights of the massive amount of research gathered. The information Avery and the Lestrange brothers had gathered in only two days was astounding. Hermione would be impressed.

“So you’re telling me that I’m pretty much untouchable by the law?” Harry surmised at the end of the brief.

“Yes, Lord Potter,” Avery replied. “In the article this morning, it was printed that you compare yourself to a liaison acting on Deaths’ orders? It was an accurate comparison because with you answering to a higher power it sets you apart from wizard laws.”

“With that kind of immunity it’s no wonder people are terrified of Necromancers,” Harry muttered.

“Might I also comment that the article was very well done. But won’t public backlash be worse if you claim you aren’t Dark but your alliance is discovered?” Rabastan interjected, he sounded calm but Harry noticed the nervous clenching of fists as though nervous of the repercussions of questioning him. Given Voldemort's methods, Harry didn’t really blame him.

“Who says I am Dark?” Harry countered, watching the surprised faces. “Oh, I’m definitely not Light but I also never claimed that I was either, it was always just assumed. No, currently my magic might technically be Dark due to my inheritance but personally, I view myself as Grey. Just because I’m in an alliance with Voldemort,” the men flinched slightly, “doesn’t mean anything. It’s all politics really.”

“So you really don’t follow the Dark Lord?” Rodolphus questioned, seemingly emboldened by his brother's ability to question.

“No, and I never will. I’m not really the follower type,” Harry smirked before rising to his feet. Harry didn’t really want to think that technically he was a follower and his Master was Death but he hadn’t met his Master yet and from the journals it didn’t sound like Death was all that bad. The other three quickly stood as well. “Continue your research and report back in a week. Also, start digging into Dumbledore’s history. Specifically his voting records during Wizengamot sessions.”

“Yes, Sir,” the men said bowing, which turned into a kneel when Marvolo entered.

“I hope my men proved useful,” the Dark Lord commented before letting them rise.

“Oh yes, we even got to have a little chat to clear up some personal things.” Marvolo gave a small tilt of his head but otherwise didn’t react. “Ready to duel?” Harry asked as they left the library followed by the three Death Eaters who hadn’t been outrightly dismissed yet and so trailed behind in curiosity.

Avery had already witnessed his practice the other day and looked eager to see more. And it seemed Marvolo had been right about word spreading because the brothers looked just as eager.

~*~

“Thank you, Dobby,” Harry said when he arrived in Grimmauld Place.

He was finally meeting his friends again, his retaliation article had been printed yesterday, and he had managed to convince Marvolo to hold his dueling practice earlier just so he could have more time with them. As it was, he had about three hours until dinner.

It looked completely different. It was clean for one and the curtains were open giving it an airy feel. The paint and decor were still dark and revolting but Harry was pleased with the progress. He walked into the dining room and grinned at the sight of the food. The table was filled with finger sandwiches, pastries, and other delicacies.

“Thank you, Kreacher.” The elderly elf bowed low and disappeared with Dobby to collect his friends.

The first to arrive were the twins with Kreacher. The twins rushed him quickly, talking so rapidly that Harry didn’t bother trying to answer because soon Dobby arrived with Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, who all tackled him. Laughing, Harry broke free of his friends and saw Dobby arriving with Luna at the same time as Kreacher arrived with Neville.

“Hello Harry,” Luna said airily. “Quite the exciting summer it seems. Your nargles have mostly left you.”

“That’s great,” Harry said cheerfully, giving her a side hug which was all he could manage since Hermione was still holding him in a death grip.

“Can’t ever take a break, eh, Harry?” Neville chuckled, patting him on the back. Harry groaned good-naturedly and the others laughed.

“Yeah, well fate hates me,” he grumbled, finally shaking free and going to the table. “Anyway, take a seat and grab some food. Dobby and Kreacher worked hard on this. Er, later Hermione,” Harry sighed at his best friends look. Everyone took a seat and filled their plates. “Right, so, I’m assuming that since you are all here it means you are standing with me.”

“It was never a question, mate,” Ron replied with an understanding smile before taking a bite of his pastry.

The relief that Harry felt hit like a tidal wave and he couldn’t stop the smile. “Thanks, guys, you don’t know what that means to me.”

“Enough sentimentality,” Fred chuckled.

“Yes, tell us what it’s like living with Voldie,” George enthused.

“Nice photo in the paper by the way.”

“Oh yes, very sexy.”

“Drool-worthy. We’re thinking of having it framed.”

“Yes but then people might get the wrong impression of our store,” George snickered.

Harry dropped his head in his hands while the others laughed. “I didn’t know she was taking the picture. I met with her and Madame Bones the day after Dumbledore put his article out there. Luckily, Mad-Eye and Kingsley will be arrested soon.”

“Not Dumbledore?” Ginny asked frowning.

“No, I know for a fact that Kingsley and Mad-Eye cursed me but Dumbledore never actively participated.”

“Slimy bastard,” Ron grumbled.

“Tell me how things are though,” Harry insisted, moving away from the topic of his torture for now.

“Dumbledore questioned us but we managed to brush him off,” George replied.

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny looked horribly guilty at the mention of this. “He came to us too, mate,” Ron began.

“Oh, Harry, it was awful!” Hermione cut in fretfully. “We had just gotten your letter and had decided to play spy since we weren’t sure how you wanted to work things and thought that keeping Dumbledore oblivious would be best.” Hermione’s eyes were starting to fill with tears. “The things we said. I’m so sorry. We had to make it believable.”

Gut twisting, Harry got up to embrace his best friend, wrapping her tightly in a hug. Ron looked so haunted and wretched while Ginny also looked like she wanted to cry but was holding it in. “It was great thinking on your part. Truly. It will work out for the best keeping tabs on the old man from the inside. I mean you didn’t mean it, right?”

“No!” The three cried out. Ginny continued on. “Not at all, I felt so dirty listening to him go on about how Dark you were and fucking agreeing to it!”

“Good news was that it worked,” Ron sighed. “So Dumbledore still trusts us.”

Hermione was calming down now and so Harry returned to his seat and ordered some tea which Kreacher promptly delivered. “Whose idea was it anyway?”

“Ron’s actually,” Ginny said with a proud look to her brother. The twins also boasted proud grins.

“It’s just strategy,” Ron shrugged sheepishly.

Harry beamed at him nonetheless. “Brilliant!”

“Gran I think supports you,” Neville said after the silence progressed. “Or at least she doesn’t agree with Dumbledore.”

“It’s something,” Harry grinned.

“Daddy supports you, Harry,” Luna chimed in.

“We think Remus and my folks might side with you. They weren’t climbing on the Dumbledore campaign when he stopped by to tell us the news and they seemed to enjoy the article. Tonks I think will need more work,” Ron continued.

“See what you can do about Remus and your parents. Feel them out and try bringing them around without tipping Dumbledore. Fred and George you can do more with them once school starts.” The twins nodded. “And you guys can keep an eye on the students once you go back.”

“Wait,” Hermione interrupted. “Aren’t you coming back to Hogwarts?”

Harry shook his head sadly. “No. Found out officially from Madame Bones. Apparently, with my inheritance, it’s too much of a safety risk but it’s also my Lordships. You can’t be a student and a Lord at the same time. I didn’t know that though and apparently, it’s an old, rarely used law. But it’s there.”

“At least you’ve already gotten your O.W.Ls,” Neville pointed out cheerfully. “How’d you do anyway? Gran was so pleased with my Defense scores. I really need to thank you for that.”

Harry smiled at the success of his friend. “I’m glad, but I have no idea what my scores are. Never got my results.”

“What? They came out a few days ago,” Hermione frowned.

“Yeah, Madame Bones wasn’t thrilled. She’s looking into it.”

“Madame Bones is good people, it’s lucky you have her in your corner,” Neville commented. “Gran always talks well of her.”

“Enough about us, Harry,” Ginny cut in impatiently. “We want to hear from you.”

“Yes, you’ve lived with _Him_ for over a week now,” Ron prompted.

“Tell us everything,” the twins chorused together.

“Merlin, where to begin?” Harry sighed.

“I suggest the beginning. It is a wonderful place,” Luna said.

“Yes,” George nodded. “Now, we have-”

“Just pushed you out-’

“Of our apartment because of-”

“Dumbles arrival. Begin,” Fred finished.

So, Harry told them how he spotted Draco Malfoy’s hair and ran over and practically begged their classmates to take him to Voldemort and was almost caught by Dumbledore. He talked about arriving and killing Pettigrew as proof and making the deal. He spoke of the nice room he was given and eating meals with Marvolo, the human version of Voldemort. How Marvolo told him about his family history and advised going to Gringotts. Harry explained all he learned from the goblins and what he learned from the journals, the requirements for being a Necromancer, and his progress with control in regards to the rose bush. How Marvolo was training him in dueling, the Dursleys’ burning his broom and trunk. How Dobby was able to save his Cloak and the Map which was partially damaged. How Dumbledore still had his wand and the spare Marvolo had given him and the emergency portkey.

“It’s so strange living with him,” Harry sighed running a hand through his hair. “I know who he is and I can’t forgive him of everything. But he’s helping me! Bloody hell, he’s cracked jokes that are actually funny!”

“Bloody hell, mate,” Ron breathed.

“So are you Dark now?” Luna asked.

“Because it’s alright if you are,” Ginny assured him. “We already decided that we stand with you no matter what.” Everyone at the table gave a nod and Harry gaped.

“Merlins’ balls, you lot are amazing,” he breathed. “And technically my magic is Dark because of being a Necromancer but I see myself more as Grey.”

“So about this temporary alliance?” Hermione questioned with a smirk.

“Right, I swear it’s just temporary. Just until Dumbledore is defeated.”

Ron gave him a calculating look that Harry typically attributed to when his friend played chess. “I don’t see _Him_ just agreeing to that. He’s not one to give up power of any kind.”

“Yeah, he made me promise to reevaluate my stance later and he is definitely trying to win me over….” Harry trailed off. “Even when I told him I wouldn’t be a follower. He’s trying to convince me to be his partner, his ally and equal…”

“Bloody hell,” Ron huffed.

Ginny tilted her head shrewdly. “Words are nice and we both know that Riddle can charm like no other. What do his actions say?”

“That’s the thing!” Harry exclaimed. “He held an Introduction Ceremony for me. Invited all his followers and their families. He had me on the stage next to him. He told them all that I was above them and second only to him. Bloody hell, he was even about to torture Avery and when I stopped him, he fucking let me!”

“Bloody hell,” the twins muttered.

“He’s really serious,” Hermione murmured.

“It would seem so. When I told him I didn’t agree with his views he implied that my understanding was skewed.”

“What ended up happening to Avery?” Neville questioned. “And what was his punishment for?”

“Apparently, he didn’t research my family lineage well enough and didn’t know about the Black and Peverell Lordships. I told Marvolo that it was ridiculous to torture him over that since no one knew,” Harry rolled his eyes at the absurdity. “So he gave him to me ‘as a present’ and later suggested I just use him as a servant. So I have him researching laws regarding Necromancers and other magical inheritances. Only thing is, Nev, I’m sorry, but he’s got the Lestrange brothers helping him. I met them both yesterday.” Neville sat stiffly, staring at the table. “I already told them off for what they did and that I didn’t care for them. But honestly, I prefer them over Bellatrix and so, made a deal that if they keep Bellatrix under control and away from me then I will treat them civilly.”

“I understand, Harry,” Neville finally said. “I knew they were on His side and alive, but I still follow you. And you live in that house, you’ll have to work with them. Having a civil relationship only makes sense. From what I’ve heard it was mainly that witch who did it.”

“You are an amazing friend, Neville.” The boy reddened and Harry silently promised himself to find a way to make it up to his fellow Gryffindor.

“What laws have they found?” Hermione asked.

“Oh, it’s really cool actually. Apparently, I’m kind of above the law since I serve a higher power, Death. So even when I take Life I can’t be arrested.”

“Damn,” Ginny chuckled.

Conversation dissolved into lighter topics such as what N.E.W.T classes Ron, Hermione and Neville planned on taking, the newest products the twins were making and Ginny and Luna’s nerves over their O.W.L year.

Neville finally glanced at his watch and groaned. “Oh, I’ve got to get back. Dinner will be soon and Gran will be worried.”

After making plans to meet again before school, the group departed and Harry returned to Slytherin Manor feeling lighthearted.


	14. Lucky Them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gets to interact with his fellow Slytherin classmates, gets to do a bit of Defense instruction, and he gets to have dinner with some of the other Death Eaters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything is J.K. Rowlings. I only claim the plot. Everything else is hers, all the characters and the magic, all of it. Please let me know what you think though, I encourage feedback of all kinds, just be nice about it!
> 
> I apologize for the delay. I've had this ready for about a week now but I was focused on working on the next chapter which is giving me troubles, and so I kept forgetting to post this. Apologies! 
> 
> To the person who commented that Voldemort is a bit too sane, don't worry! Marvolo wants Harry on his side and he knows that showcasing his more deranged activities is not the way to do so. Admittedly, he is showing Harry a side of himself that he inwardly hopes to embrace more but for now, in his mind, it is a way of bringing Harry on his side and Harry is letting himself be oblivious so that they don't have to break the truce they have formed. They will have confrontation though as Marvolo said during the first breakfast, it is almost impossible for the two of them to not get heated when together. 
> 
> Please keep the reviews coming!

**Lucky Them**

Breathe. Concentrate. Step. Breathe. Concentrate. Breathe. Concentrate. Hold. Hold. Breathe. Step. Switch. Breathe. Concentrate. Pull. Breathe. Pull.  

A twig snapped and Harry twitched and almost lost his balance. Shaking his head of the distraction, he went back to focusing. He stared at the bushes before him. All in various states of decay. He was practicing controlling the speed of pulling Life and cutting off so that he didn’t pull all of it at once. He hoped that he might be able to just take years off of a person's Life versus taking the entire thing as a sort of warning system. 

He could see the faint shimmer of each Life in the bushes, it was still hard to see but as the journals and guides said, it was becoming easier. And his hold on his magic, while still hard to control and maintain, was easier to reach and call forth. He was currently standing barefoot in just some blue harem pants without a shirt on. The harem pants reminded him of the Aladdin movie he had watched in muggle school, a movie he had related to being of a similar color, and he had convinced Tobi to get him some. They were lightweight and breathable which was needed in the current heat. Harry had started with a robe, shirt, and shoes but the heat of the sun had made it unbearable and so he had tossed his outer robes and shirt. And he had hoped that by taking off his shoes it might help connect him to the bushes’ Life easier. 

Sweat trickled from his scalp and raced down his bareback and chest but he held firm in his concentration. Breathe. The heady rush was just on the outer edge of his thought but he knew that as much as he wanted to he couldn’t let it overpower his thoughts. Allowing the detachment was as much as he allowed himself to indulge. He was holding a pose from the guide books, balancing on one foot with his hands out in front of him as though calling the Life to his palms. Breathe. Step. He stepped his foot down and now held a more balanced warrior-esque pose with his hands clenched into fists. He opened his left palm and pulled on the Life from the bush to his left. Breathe. He clenched his left hand into a fist to stop the pull of Life and then opened his right and pulled the Life of the bush to his right. Fist clenched, pull stopped. Breathe. Opening both fists he pulled on the Life of the bushes on his right, left and the one right in front of him. Breathe. Breathe. Concentrate. Pulling Life from three sources in different locations was harder to hold and control. Can’t pull too quickly. Breathe. Hold. Breathe. 

Another twig and a gasp. Harry lost his control and all three bushes died in an instant. Growling, Harry spun on his heel to face the intruder. His fists clenched held out like a punch. The icy fire eager to take out any who dared disrupt his focus. Eyes narrowed, a cold smirk played across his lips as he took in the petrified faces of his Slytherin classmates through the detached haze that the icy fire provided. Slowly he straightened his posture, dropping his fist to his side; the high dissolved, the detachment withered, and his call on his magic faded. 

Draco Malfoy stood a few feet from him looking far too pale to be healthy and behind him cowered Pansy Parkinson and Tracey Davis. Poking out from behind the untouched bushes on the right were the heads of Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise Zabini, while on the left which held his robes and shirt hid Daphne Greengrass and Theo Nott. 

“Potter-Sir-Lord?” Malfoy croaked out, gripping the hem of his shirt tightly. 

“I won’t stop you from calling me Lord,” Harry teased, his smirk growing more mischievous, he was panting slightly from the exertion of calling Life but his running and dueling were helping him regain his breath quicker. “But Potter works fine.” Malfoy swallowed and nodded, seeming to gain a bit more color to his cheeks. “We playing hide and seek or something?” Harry asked, glancing at the others still ducking behind the shrubbery. Shamefaced the others stood up from behind the bushes and came forward to stand next to Malfoy. 

“No, we just didn’t want to potentially get in the way,” Greengrass clarified. 

“You mean you didn’t want to die when you broke my concentration?”

“We are Slytherins, self-preservation and all that,” Zabini shrugged, his hands dipping casually into his trouser pockets. 

“Right,” Harry sighed, crossing his arms in front of his still bare chest. He was suddenly aware of his lack of dress but he didn’t want to make a show of that by rushing for his shirt. Best to make it look like he wasn’t bothered. It’s not like he had anything to be upset about after all, plus he noted a few in the group eyeing him appreciatively. It was a nice ego boost.

“Great job,” squeaked one of the bulky Slytherin boys, Harry was pretty sure it was Goyle. Harry quirked an eyebrow. “The bushes. Nice job with the...the….”

“Killing them?” Harry supplied sardonically enjoying making his classmates nervous by referencing his power. “Thanks,” he added. He wasn’t rude after all, a compliment was a compliment. 

He glanced over the group before him. The same group that he had come begging to over a week ago. A lot has changed since then. He wondered what meeting Marvolo was hosting that required their parents but decided that it was probably best that he hadn’t been called, he wasn’t a follower after all. 

The silence continued to stretch between the teenagers and Harry was content to let it continue stretching. He had nothing to say to them after all. He was aware he owed them a favor but until they called on it, why would he have to interact with them? Unless...Harry’s eyes narrowed at the realization.  _ The slimy bastard _ , he cursed mentally. 

“So. How are you, Potter?” Nott asked with forced cheerfulness. 

“Superb,” he deadpanned. “So this is how it is, eh? Voldie wanted you to make friends with me? Play nice and keep me happy?”

Crabbe, Goyle, and Davis winced and Harry knew he was right. “How’d you guess?” Zabini asked. 

“Oh, didn’t you know?” Harry asked with feigned innocent surprise. “As a Necromancer, one of my skills is mind reading. I’ve gotten quite good.”

The group paled again. “Liar,” Malfoy finally declared, looking certain though nervous at speaking out. “You-”

“You will do well to remember never to call me a liar,” Harry cut in coldly. That was something he would not tolerate. His hand still bore the scars from last years detention with Umbridge and he was sick of being called something he was not.

The Slytherins looked surprised at this change of attitude but all nodded, their eyes wide and fearful. “But you can’t read minds,” Malfoy insisted. “You’re just pulling one over.”

Harry snickered, allowing the hardness to fall off of him. “Yeah, you’re right. I can’t. It was just a guess, which you all just confirmed. I mean why else would you lot come near me if not by orders from your precious Lord?”

Half the group looked offended at being tricked and the other half looked horrified at his mocking of their loyalty. “He’s your Lord, too,” Parkinson sneered.

“No, he’s not.” Gobsmacked was the best description of their responses. “I’m not a follower, not really my style,” he smirked. “He knows this. I’m his ally. It’s just temporary anyway.” The others didn’t look like they believed that, much like his friends hadn’t believed it either. “Well, it’s temporary until otherwise stated,” Harry amended. “I couldn’t follow him even if I did suffer a brain lapse and want to anyway. I serve a higher power,” he lightly tapped the mark on his chest. “I doubt Death will be cool with me bending a knee to another.”

Greengrass, Nott, Malfoy, and Davis looked thoughtful at that while the others looked nervous at the reminder. “So, you lot are supposed to play nice with me while your parents sit through a meeting. How long is the meeting for?”

Nott shrugged. “Not sure. Father didn’t make it sound like it would be long but we are to stay for dinner too.” 

Interesting, Harry mused. Marvolo had only had a few guests over for dinner. A mixture of Avery, Malfoy Sr., the Lestrange brothers, and a few other Inner Circle members, usually no more than three at a time. But now it seemed like there would be far more than three over for dinner. How would that change things? 

It always made Harry anxious and not just because there was Death Eaters present. But because every time there were guests, they would eat in a fancier dining room with a longer table and darker atmosphere and Harry would be required to sit at Marvolo’s right-hand instead of at the other end of the table. Showed solidarity and status, Marvolo claimed. Whatever it showed, it made Harry nervous. 

“Well not all of us,” Davis amended. “I think it’s just Draco, Theo, Daphne, and Pansy who are having to stay for dinner.” 

“Lucky them,” Harry gave a shark-like grin. A few of them gave weak chuckles and Harry rolled his eyes. This was going to be misery and Harry was definitely going to give Marvolo a few words. Finally, he sighed, wiping a hand across his still sweaty forehead. “Well, since my training has been brought to an abrupt end, I have about three hours before my dueling practice. Anyone else hungry?” He moved to grab his shirt and robes while he cast a quick cleaning charm at himself. Slipping on his shirt, a nice loose-fitting style to match his pants; he toed on his boots while he buttoned up the shirt. Thankfully it was short-sleeved but it was still too hot for an over robe, even with cooling charms.  

“I’m hungry,” the short fat one, Crabbe, chimed up. Harry snorted and shook his head. Goyle was nodding his head in agreement while the other Slytherins rolled their eyes. 

“Right. This way,” Harry said tucking his robes over his arm and walking away from the bushes. It was still a beautiful day, despite the heat, and he wasn’t about to suffer indoors with this lot. So an outdoor lunch was just the ticket and it’s not like they would disagree, Harry thought with a smirk. He led the group to an outdoor sitting area, Harry remembered Marvolo showing him during the tour all those days ago. “Tobi,” he called out as they walked. 

“Yes, Master Death Master?” Tobi asked reverently when he appeared at his side. 

“Tobi, can you have a lunch prepared at the outdoor patio for myself and my...companions? Something light I think will work wonderfully.”

“Of course, Master Death Master! Tobi is being getting youse lunch right away.” The tiny elf popped away again and Harry continued on not breaking stride. The entourage behind him remained silent. 

The outdoor patio was picturesque as everything was at Slytherin Manor. It was a dark wooden pergola with roses climbing up the legs and over the roof, so it gave a secluded feeling like a natural tent with open spaces serving as windows. And off to the side was a small creek that provided a natural ambiance and background noise. Harry was also pretty sure there were temperature charms surrounding the place because the heat wasn’t nearly as noticeable. 

Getting to the table, a quaint outdoor set of the same dark wood as the pergola for the legs with a glass tabletop with ten matching cushioned wicker chairs. Seeing as Marvolo wasn’t there and Harry was technically higher than the others, he tossed his robes at the convenient coat rack off to the side of the patio and took the head seat feeling just a small amount of trepidation and giddiness. He glanced at the others, all standing around the table looking uncertain. 

“Well, take a seat. Or stand if that’s how you lot prefer eating,” Harry sighed. This was going to be a long day if they were going to stay timid. He would rather be spitting insults than this. 

Malfoy took the lead and claimed the seat on Harry’s right and the rest followed. Soon Harry was seated at the head with Malfoy, Parkinson, Crabbe, and Goyle on his right and Greengrass, Nott, Zabini, and Davis on his left which left the chair directly opposite him on the rectangular table open. It seemed no one wished to directly oppose him. 

There was silence for a moment and Harry debated whether he should be the bigger man and set them at ease. He may be living with the Slytherin Lord and devil himself and trying to embrace that Slytherin side that the Sorting Hat identified back when he was eleven, but he was still a Gryffindor at heart. 

Before he could make a decision though, Tobi appeared with plates and food. A large bowl of fruit salad held the center of the table and then there was some pasta salad for the side and then some lightly seasoned chicken breasts. “It looks delicious, Tobi, thank you.”

Tobi’s large ears wiggled in delight. “Of course, Master Death Master!” The elf disappeared and Harry occupied himself with filling his plate and the others took his lead. 

He chewed his chicken thoughtfully as he observed the Slytherins around the table. They all looked to be sporting varying degrees of nerves and uncertainty but the ones closest to him seemed to hide it better. He was vividly reminded of his meeting at Grimmauld with his friends two days ago, the contrast between the two groups was jarring. 

“So, Potter,” Malfoy seemed to have taken the reigns for everyone. “Been flying lately?”

Harry smirked. “No, sadly my broom was burnt by my Muggle relatives after my premature departure.” Malfoy probably would have visibly deflated if he hadn’t been properly trained as he was. “Don’t worry though. I’ve placed an order for a new one and once it’s in, I'll be sure to beat you soundly.”

Malfoy scoffed and a few of the others snickered. “Hardly. You’ve won a couple of matches, Potter, it doesn’t make you the best.”

“Yeah but I’ve beaten you each time. So what does that say about you?” Malfoy’s cheeks pinkened slightly and Harry grinned more. “But don’t worry. Your ego will have the chance to grow even more this school year since I won’t be there to defend the title.”

“You aren’t coming back to school?” Greengrass questioned with a frown disrupting her smooth face. Harry glanced at her, he recalled his roommates raving about her beauty and objectively he could agree. Her hair, while blonde, was more honey colored and its curls weren’t the unmanageable mess of Hermione's but were wrangled into delicate ringlets. Her eyes were a dark blue that reminded Harry of a summer night sky. 

“No, I’m not. Not allowed,” Harry shrugged, before stabbing a strawberry. “I’m a bit of a safety risk according to Madame Bones. And apparently, a person can’t be a Lord and a student at the same time.” Harry watched everyone's eyes flicker to the three rings shining prettily on his hand. 

“So what do your friends think about everything?” Zabini questioned, pausing from eating the pasta salad. 

“They are fully supportive of me. Who do you think freed me from Dumbledore after all?” Harry chuckled at the raised eyebrows. “They actually realized where I needed to be before I did and they have been nothing but loyal.”

“They are willing to go against Dumbledore?” Parkinson asked disbelievingly.

Harry tilted his head and his fingers lightly played with the condensation forming on his glass of water. “Why shouldn’t they? It was me they stood beside in the third floor corridor, in the Chamber, against the Dementors, during the Tournament, and then again at the Ministry. Dumbledore might be the Leader of the Light but it is  _ me  _ my friends follow and it is  _ me  _ they hold their allegiance to.”

“Bloody hell,” Goyle breathed, though Harry barely heard him since he was farther down the table. 

“You’re acting different,” Davis commented shrewdly, her auburn hair was pulled back in a high ponytail that swung with her assessment like a pendulum. “You aren’t all innocent and Gryffindorish.”

“Yes, you’re acting very Slytherin, Potter,” Greengrass agreed. 

Harry smirked again and leaned back further into his chair. “Want to know a secret?” he taunted and the entire group nodded their heads, looking eager. “The Hat wanted me in Slytherin first.” 

“Li-You’re bluffing again,” Malfoy declared, catching his wording just in time, while a few of them had their mouths threatening to dangle. 

“Nope, this is actually true,” Harry countered with a shake of his head. “It said that Slytherin would help me on the way to greatness. But given that I had already made a friend in Ron and Hagrid who both told me how bad Slytherin was and then I met you which only further proved that point,” Harry added with a pointed look at Draco who looked horrified. “I asked it to put me anywhere but Slytherin and the Hat agreed.”

The table fell to silence and Harry relished in being able to stun his former classmates so thoroughly. He continued to nibble on the chicken breast, because it really was wonderfully well done, while the rest of the table tried to process the latest information. 

“Is it true that you taught students Defense last year?” Nott asked suddenly. It looked like he had been sitting on that question for a while. 

Harry tilted his head. “Yeah. It’s not like we actually learned anything last year, had to learn somehow. You lot should know, you interrupted one of our lessons.” Harry mainly glared at Malfoy who did look guilty. 

“We weren’t actually sure what was happening though,” Zabini clarified. “We were told you were smuggling illegal artifacts into the school and preparing to attack with an army.”

Harry couldn’t stop his eyebrows rising. “Seriously? We were bloody students!”

“It did seem a bit ludicrous, but we couldn’t really say no,” Greengrass shrugged. “Umbridge would have told our parents that we weren’t supporting the Ministry outreach.”

Harry frowned at that. He supposed it made sense for why they joined that ridiculous squad. “Yeah, it was just a defense club. We called ourselves Dumbledore's Army mainly as a bit of a joke about that being Fudge’s worst fear.”

“Would you….” Nott hesitated and glanced at the others at the table. “Our parents weren’t happy with our Defense O.W.L. scores. Not that they could blame us with that harpy teaching us nothing. But...would you be willing to teach us a bit?”

“Seriously?”

‘Yes, please,” Davis continued, leaning further around Zabini’s shoulder. “Think of it as us calling in on our favor you owe us. We need to work on our defense and our education has been terrible. How are we supposed to be worthy soldiers of the Dark Lord if we can’t do basic defense?”

Her argument was sound and Harry agreed that if it hadn’t been for the chaos of his life where he had been forced to learn certain things then he would be just as lost as they were. “Alright.” The group blinked at the ease of his agreement. “Yeah, I’ll teach you. Or try. I mean there isn’t much time left before school starts back. But I’ll do what I can. And don’t call in your favors,” Harry could almost hear a voice that sounded like Marvolo saying how idiotic that statement was because it still left him on the hook. “This is to learn defense, it’s a safety issue and I won’t have that as a favor. If things weren’t tense between the Houses, you would have been able to attend those lessons held last year anyway.”

“Thank you,” Greengrass said, her smile genuine and mirrored by most of the table. 

“Yeah, sure. You want to go after lunch?”

A chorus of ‘yes’s’ followed his question and lunch was finished remarkably soon after that. Slightly bemused, Harry had them follow him back into the house and into the Dueling Room. He tossed his robe off to the side. “Alright, get rid of the over robes. No use for them in here,” Harry ordered, tapping his borrowed wand against his palm as he thought. “We are going to start basic,” he continued starting to pace a bit while the others shed their outer layer.  “I need to see what I’m working with.” He summoned the dummies and placed them in a line and wordlessly the Slytherins paired off with a dummy. Harry observed the eight students and silently marveled at how bizarre this all was. He called a dummy for himself. “Right, so first off. Expelliarmus.” He demonstrated his almost trademark spell with the precise wand movements for the benefit of the others and caught the dummy’s wand with Seeker reflexes. 

He could cast Expelliarmus and many others with ease wordlessly now though. It had been something Marvolo had been drilling him from the start of their training. Harry had mastered it a few days ago.

Glancing over his shoulder at the empty end of the room closest to the door, Harry narrowed his eyes. The back of his neck was prickling like someone was watching. His mind brought up the memory of Marvolo hiding in the library to watch his meeting earlier in the week but for the moment he dismissed it. He was fairly sure he could feel Marvolo’s magic once again but he wasn’t certain. Even if the man was there though. What did it matter? It wouldn’t change what Harry was going to teach.

“Really, Potter?” Malfoy scoffed. Harry turned his attention back to his peers. “Be serious with us. We are asking to be taught real defense.”

Harry scowled. “You asked me and I’m teaching. Don’t disregard the basics. Expelliarmus is a particular favorite of mine and it’s helped me out quite a bit. Including that night in the graveyard. Now. Cast.”

Malfoy, Zabini, and Parkinson were grumbling slightly but they did cast the spell just like the others. The results were just as Harry expected and it was similar to how it had been with the DA. The attempts were laughable. “You see my point now. This spell can win you the duel. The moment your opponent no longer has a wand they are defenseless. Unless they are close enough to throw a punch. You disarm them and you win to live another day. Now, Stupefy.” Harry demonstrated. Again the attempts were weak and Harry noted some wand movements that needed to be corrected, but they all seemed much more proficient at it. “Right. And Protego.” Greengrass and Malfoy were able to hold a weak, flickering, shield but the others had nothing. “Alright. We will focus on those for today. Those are the basics and they need to come the easiest. You need to be able to cast these in your sleep and wordlessly if you hope to survive.”

Harry then started walking down the row, coaching them on Expelliarmus first. Working with their wand movements and their pronunciation. He focused a bit more on Crabbe and Goyle who, now that he was interacting with them, reminded him a bit of how Neville used to be. In less than an hour, each of them could disarm, though all of their aims needed work. But Harry felt confident that they would be able to continue on their own. 

Stupefy was next and after a few corrections to wand movement, they all took to it pretty well. Apparently offensive was more their style.

Protego was a struggle and Harry admittedly was getting frustrated. “Why does it matter,” Parkinson huffed finally. “If you are winning you don’t need to shield.”

“The offensive is, of course, preferred,” Harry conceded, running his hand through his already ruined hair. “But this can save your life. But it’s not just your life you need to think about.” Harry paused as an idea came to mind. “Greengrass and Davis, give your wands to Malfoy and stand behind Parkinson. Go on.” Nervously the two girls did so, handing their wands to Malfoy and went to stand behind their friend. “Nott and Zabini, over here. You three, stand back.” Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle stepped back a bit and looked nervous, Malfoy fondled the two foreign wands uncertainly; Parkinson looked anxious. 

“Now, Parkinson. You’re two friends are defenseless. You need to protect them. You can only do so offensively. You two,” Harry continued, turning to Zabini and Nott. “Are going to help me attack them. Don’t go easy on them. They are the enemy right now. Imagine them as whoever but don’t go easy. Stupefy and Expelliarmus only though. Alright?” The two boys nodded and brought their wands up. “Go.” Harry spun quickly and began firing at all three girls. Davis and Greengrass squealed and tried to hide behind Parkinson as she began to fight against all three opponents. She had barely gotten two Stupefys’ out when she and her two friends were stunned. 

“Enervate,” Harry said waking each of them from their stunned state. “A little hard, eh, Parkinson? If this was a battle all three of you would be dead and it would be your fault,” Harry said seriously and Parkinson swallowed hard. Harry smirked as he went back to Nott and Zabini. “Now. You can only use Protego.” Without warning, Harry sent out a couple cutting hexes at Greengrass and Davis not overly powered so it was really only minor injuries but both girls cried out and clutched at their now bleeding limbs. Davis clutched her right shoulder while her left wrist still bled. And Greengrass fell to the floor with a cut to her right leg and her right elbow was also injured. Parkinson glanced at her friends and turned back to him furiously, her brunette bob swishing madly at the speed, opening her mouth to protest. “Something wrong? Did the enemy not wait until you were ready?” Harry taunted. “Your friends are hurt and wandless, Parkinson. You have three attackers. Last time all three of you died within ten seconds.” Without warning, Harry began firing and Parkinson had the shield up almost immediately. Nott and Zabini joined in and the three of them were relentless in their attack. Parkinson lasted two minutes before her shield faltered and all three were stunned. 

“Enervate,” Harry repeated. When the three girls came too, he smiled at them. “Congratulations. You lasted longer. Two whole minutes as compared to the ten seconds,” he said as he started to heal Davis and Greengrass. Another trick he had learned from his sessions with Marvolo, basic healing spells. “In that time help could have arrived and you could have escaped.” Harry stood and gestured for everyone to take their positions against their dummies again. Malfoy handed Davis and Greengrass back their wands. “Think of someone you care about. A sibling, a best friend, a parent, hell even just a little First Year who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. They are behind you right now defenseless and injured and need you to save them. To protect them. They don’t need some hero charging wildly, they need someone to stay with them to make sure they stay safe and stay alive. The offensive is a lot harder to manage when you don’t just have yourself to think about. Sometimes you just need to hold off the attacker until help arrives. Now. Protect them.” 

Protego came much quicker to them all with the proper motivation. In fact, Harry was sure that he had never seen a group take to the spell so quickly. Parkinson's shield was near flawless, Harry thought as he watched her cast the spell again and again, holding it longer each time, with such a determined look on her face that he feared for her future opponents. 

A slow clap sounded just as Harry was calling the session to a close. Spinning Harry saw Marvolo and other Death Eaters that Harry guessed were parents of the teens he was training because he recognized Malfoys parents, appearing in the room. So he had been right, someone had been in the room, just invisibly watching them. “Wonderful work,” Marvolo said easily, ending his slow claps and stepping forward as the Slytherin students all got to their knees and Harry gave him a suffering sigh.  

“Glad you enjoyed the show,” he replied with a roll of his eyes. 

“Of course. Your methods were a bit unorthodox,” the man continued. “Rise,” he added to the teenagers who stood and looked uncertain in their Lord's presence. “But of course, unorthodox is to be expected with you isn’t it?”

“You’ll find my picture next to the word in the dictionary,” he quipped with a smirk. A twitch of the lips and a lightening of the crimson eyes were his only response. 

_ “What brought this training on?” _   Marvolo hissed in Parseltongue as he gestured for the teenagers to rejoin with their parents. 

_ “They want to be good little soldiers for you and needed my help due to our lack of education,”   _ Harry explained.  _ “I’ve got a bit of experience in that area,”  _ he added with a sardonic chuckle crossing his arms in front of his chest. 

“Yes, I’m quite impressed with your work,” Marvolo continued in English, he was standing in front of Harry now, talking easily as if they didn’t have a very avid audience a few feet away. But like always, with Marvolo near and focused on him, Harry found it easy to block out the rest of the world. “If you chose to stay and remain by my side, I might request you train all of my recruits.”

“Your praise is far too much for my humble person,” Harry swooned elaborately and gave an overly mocking bow. It allowed him to shrug off how much that offer affected him. The thought of being able to help more people learn how to defend themselves was appealing, but he wasn’t about to tell Marvolo that outright. He had loved the DA for that reason and instructing today had been great too.

_ “Impertinent brat,” _ Marvolo hissed with narrowed eyes but Harry could tell there was no malice held. If anything the man looked more amused than anything, Harry flashed a grin. “ _ Someone is in a good mood.” _

_ “Yeah, it’s been a good day,”  _ Harry admitted, absently twirling his wand. It was a habit he was starting to develop over the past week usually when he was fully focused on something he would twirl it but now it just helps him ease his restlessness.  _ “Oh, don’t think I didn’t notice how you sent me some little playmates. Trying to get me to start training my own minions are we?” _

Marvolo looked perfectly innocent as he replied,  _ “I don’t know what you mean. I just thought some people your age might be nice.” _

_ “Right,”  _ Harry replied with a slight glare not believing that for a second.  _ “And if I got a taste for having little minions in the process it was just an added bonus?” _

_ “It depends, did you?” _ Marvolo replied with a barely-there lifting of the lips. 

 “Slimy bastard,” Harry muttered on his breath, not even caring that it wasn’t in Parseltongue. 

“Shall we begin your training?” Marvolo continued as though he hadn’t heard the insult or detected the lack of heat behind them. “Or are you too tired from your little instructional session?”

The man was moving away now. “I’m all set,” Harry said with an easy shrug, still twirling his wand. “Are you?”

The challenge flared in his green eyes and was met by a responding light in the red eyes. “Feeling confident?” Marvolo hummed, calling forth a circle of dummies to completely surround Harry in the center of the room with a flick of his wand. 

Harry lowered himself into a better fighting stance and couldn’t stop the adrenaline-fueled smirk on his lips. The dummies began firing and Harry blocked out all else. His magic sang and flared in response to the adrenaline coursing through him. It was in these moments that he felt the most alive. The desire to laugh madly filled him a few times but he fought it down. Ducking. Dodging. Blocking. Retaliating. The only thing that existed was spellfire. Hexes and curses shooting from his wand in quick succession. 

Along with the occasional hissed commentary from Marvolo in parseltongue about remembering to be wordless and to focus on his aim, nothing else existed for the next hour. If he got stunned, he was revived and given no respite as things started again. When he destroyed one dummy another reformed to take its place. 

Panting, Harry wiped the sweat off his forehead with a shaky hand, this had been a rough session. Turning he faced the audience. The emptiness that the exhaustion brought was always welcome. Even the slight sting from the cuts or scrapes he had received from either spellfire or dodging was almost enjoyable. It was comparable to the detached feeling he got from unleashing the icy fire. Now that he wasn’t surrounded by dummies he could see the astonished looks on the faces of the Death Eaters and teenagers. “Adequate,” Marvolo commented, stepping forward once again. 

“Yeah, well it’s only been a week,” he shot back, too tired to feel upset over the dismissal. He thought he had done very well. He’d had to be revived fewer times than the day before. Marvolo arched an eyebrow and Harry huffed an aggravated sigh. “I know, I know. Any hit is a kill hit.” They’d had this conversation multiple times. That any hit was a bad hit and that just because he was a Necromancer didn’t mean he was invincible and how he had to make it through these sessions without needing to be revived once. 

“Exactly. Glad to see you do listen occasionally,” Marvolo replied softly.  “As you know dinner will be ready in two hours, you are free until then.”

Harry quirked an eyebrow at the wording as he summoned his outer robes.  _ “Hm...didn’t know I wasn’t already free, Marvolo,”  _ Harry hissed at him with a glare.  

_ “Don’t be difficult,”  _ Marvolo hissed back with a sigh. 

Harry mock saluted his goodbye to the audience as he spun on his heel to leave. He desperately needed a shower. He’d need to ask Tobi to bring him a Pain Reliever potion but also a Pepper-Up or he wouldn’t make it through dinner. Losing himself in the heat of the shower, Harry stayed longer than he probably needed to. He needed to focus again. 

Sure he enjoyed teasing Marvolo and enjoyed their banter if it could be called that, but they had never done so in front of others and Harry was slightly worried at what Marvolo would say about that once they were alone again. He needed to refocus for the dinner tonight when he’d be placed at Marvolo’s side once again. Merlin, today was a day that he wished for the space of a table between them. 

“Thank you, Tobi,” Harry called out to the elf upon seeing his desired potions. His towel remained slung around his waist while he drained both vials. “Do you think you could pick out some nice robes for dinner tonight? There will be a lot of Marvolo’s followers in attendance and I want to make a good impression. Not overly fancy though,” he clarified as he grabbed a guidebook and his seat. 

“Of course, Master Death Master,” Tobi chimed and went to the closet. Harry focused on the text before him. It was the guidebook to controlling his magic and pulling Life to him and identifying Life in the beings around him. He had read through it already but a third time never hurt. He needed to master this aspect before anything else could happen. 

Tapping at his window had him looking up in confusion. He didn’t remember sending Hedwig out for a flight. He had been using Dobby and Kreacher to deliver notes to and from his friends. But there was his beautiful familiar a Ministry letter in her beak. Opening the window, he let Hedwig in and relieved her of her letter. “Here you go, girl,” Harry said, holding out some owl treats. “I guess you knew I had some mail, eh?” Hedwig gave a soft hoot in confirmation before flying to her perch. 

Glancing at the envelope bearing the Ministry seal, giving it a quick scan detection for any malicious spells, Harry opened the envelope and saw a small personal note sticking out. It was from Madame Bones. 

_ Lord Potter, _

_ In regards to our conversation at Gringotts, I conducted my search for your O.W.L results. Attached is your results, might I add congratulations for your scores. Unfortunately, the investigation as to who hindered the sending is still in progress.  _

_ Again, I give my condolences that you will be unable to attend Hogwarts this year. If you have any questions in regards to private N.E.W.T testing or about the Wizengamot and your Lordships, know that you can call upon my person.  _

_ Best Regards, _

_ Amelia Bones _

_ Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement _

“Tobi,” Harry called out, putting the personal note on his desk. “Remind me to write a Thank You letter to Madam Bones first thing in the morning.”

“Yes, Master Death Master.”

Turning his attention back to his O.W.L results, Harry flicked open the heavy parchment with slight nerves tickling his stomach. He quickly scanned the introductory passage, blah blah blah… “Ah-ha,” he called out to his empty room when he finally got to his own scores. Outstanding in Defense, he thought proudly. Exceeds Expectations in Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, Herbology, and Care of Magical Creatures. Acceptable in Astronomy, Poor in Divination, and Dreadful in History of Magic. 

Overall it wasn’t bad, though Harry felt a little disappointed that he wasn’t able to get an Outstanding in Charms and Transfiguration. He wouldn’t have been able to take N.E.W.T. Potions if he was returning to Hogwarts, so his former dream of becoming an Auror would have been ruined, Harry thought absently. Not that he was very disappointed with that, his life was taking an entirely new direction and Auror just didn’t fit anymore. Plus, he hated Potions and still wasn’t sure how to address the whole Snape issue. Who was the Potions’ Master actually working for? Luckily he hadn’t run into the man in the manor yet, so it gave him time to decide for now.

He would need to start studying for his N.E.W.T.s though even if he was taking them privately, Harry thought getting his thoughts back on track. He wondered if he could take some O.W.L classes as well. Runes had been mentioned multiple times in the journals and Harry knew there was a guidebook dedicated to the ones that affected Necromancy. Maybe he could pick that subject up. And while he was at it, why not Arithmancy too? Hermione would definitely be pleased. 

_ Subjects to Study, _ Harry scrawled out on some spare parchment as he sank into his desk seat. His mind focused on the topic. 

_ Charms - NEWTs _

_ Transfiguration - NEWTs _

_ Defense - NEWTs _

_ Runes - OWLs and NEWTs _

_ Arithmancy - OWLs and NEWTs _

He looked over his list. He thought it was a decent amount considering he’d also be mastering Necromancy and taking down Albus Dumbledore. 

“Master Death Master,” Tobi’s voice cut through his thoughts and he turned to look at the elf by his knee. “It is being time to being dressed for dinner.”

“Thank you, Tobi,” Harry said, replacing his quill and standing. Time to focus on the next task at hand. Harry dropped the towel around his waist and went to his bed where he saw the robes that Tobi had laid out. Pulling on some slacks and light blue button-up, Harry then shrugged into the dark blue outer robe that dipped a bit in the front to accent the light blue shirt underneath. The material felt wonderful and looking in the mirror, Harry saw that it looked great too. “Let’s do this,” Harry sighed, giving an unnecessary tug at his sleeve. 

Luckily, he no longer needed a guide and was able to easily make it to the formal dining room. Walking in, Harry noticed that he was the last one. Raising his head high, he took it all in stride pretending to enjoy making an entrance though really the eyes on him made him anxious. It was like walking into the Great Hall after he had outed himself as a Parseltongue or after his name came out of the goblet. 

As he walked to his seat, Harry took note of the people at the table. To the left of Marvolo sat Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, Parkinson, her father, with the Lestrange brothers finishing it off. Next to Harry on Marvolo’s right sat Avery, followed by Greengrass’s father, Greengrass, Nott, Nott’s father, and another higher ranking Death Eater that Harry didn’t recognize, though he was pretty positive it was Travers. Harry was once again grateful that Marvolo seemed to be taking his threat literally and was keeping Bellatrix far away. 

The table was silent as Harry took his seat and then the elves began bringing out the food. It was pasta, probably one with some fancy Italian name he couldn’t pronounce, with a white sauce and it looked delicious. Wine glasses filled; another new thing that only occurred when they had guests. Harry was beginning to suspect that Marvolo wasn’t an actual fan of alcohol, or at least wine since the man only had a few sips a meal, but apparently Marvolo thought that if he had to suffer the pureblood etiquette niceties of drinking it then so did Harry. Not that Harry was complaining because he wasn’t actually against the taste of wine, though he was more curious about firewhiskey. 

“Term begins in just about two weeks,” Marvolo began, smoothly leading the conversation after a few minutes of quiet eating. “What N.E.W.T subjects are you four planning to pursue?”

The four Slytherin students obviously hadn’t been expecting to be addressed during the conversation and so looked startled momentarily before Malfoy responded. “I plan on taking Defense, Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, and Arithmancy, My Lord,” the blonde gave a respectful bow of his head as he spoke as well. 

“My Lord, I intend on taking a similar course load,” Greengrass continued. “Though I wish to take Runes instead of Potions.”

“I will take Potions, Herbology, Charms and Transfiguration, My Lord,” Parkinson chimed in, looking a little pasty at speaking up.  

“I will be pursuing Defense, Potions, Arithmancy, Charms, and Runes, My Lord,” Nott said, nervously twisting his fork in his fingers. 

Marvolo didn’t speak for a moment and Harry knew it was just to make the other occupants of the room tense, though he just found it amusing. Marvolo caught his eye and Harry sent him a knowing look to which a slight lip twitch was his response. Harry suddenly had the desire to get a full smile out of the man though the sudden desire was bizarre and shocked him so much that he almost dropped his fork. Luckily, no one was focused on him and he quickly took a large sip of the wine. 

“Admirable subjects,” the Dark Lord finally said. “I’m sure those, along with your additional training with Lord Potter over the breaks, you will become highly valued and worthy followers and supporters of the Dark Side.” 

Harry blinked in surprise at his inclusion. He was going to continue teaching them? He had figured it would be a couple lessons before school started not during breaks as well. Would he even still be here for those? Harry wasn’t sure and wasn’t sure how to respond either. 

The four students swelled in pride. “We only wish to become worthy followers, My Lord,” Nott responded. Harry withheld from rolling his eyes. 

“Potter,” the unknown Death Eater next to Nott’s father began only to falter at a pointed look from Marvolo. “Lord Potter,” the man clarified after clearing his throat. “It is my understanding that you will not be returning to Hogwarts. Do you intend to still take N.E.W.T.s privately or are you satisfied with mere O.W.Ls?”

Harry was fairly certain he was being insulted in that statement but it wasn’t very well done. Harry gave an innocent smile. “It is true I will not be returning to Hogwarts in September,” he began before turning to Marvolo. “It’s admirable to see your Death Eaters being so invested in what your allies do with their time. Dedicated even to topics that don’t concern them.” The unknown Death Eater flushed slightly. “To satisfy your craving for gossip though, I’ll enlighten you,” Harry continued easily. “I am satisfied with my O.W.L results, though that doesn’t mean I will not pursue my studies further. In time I hope to add another two O.W.Ls to my list. I’m looking forward to the freedom of independent N.E.W.T. study.” Harry glanced at the members of the table and they all were staring at their plates but obviously listening eagerly and Marvolo’s gaze was firmly on him and it made him feel odd. “What careers are you aiming for?” Harry continued turning the conversation back to his former classmates, dismissing the Death Eater without a further glance. He was curious about wizarding jobs having not heard about much besides the basics and he thought it would give him a better insight into his new Slytherin companions because apparently, he would be seeing a lot more of them. 

“I plan to work in the Ministry, Potter,” Malfoy replied. “Which department remains to be seen but Unspeakable would be preferred.”

Marvolo stiffened, which admittedly was impressive since he already sat ramrod straight, and looked harshly at Malfoy and Malfoy shrank back from the look. “There has already been one reminder tonight about addressing my ally properly, must I make my declaration more clear?” The man fingered his wand pointedly. 

“Oh, no, it’s alright,” Harry interjected quickly. “I gave my former classmates permission to address me as just Potter.”

Marvolo glanced at Harry and he sensed the anger building in those eyes but he knew it wasn’t directed at himself or even Malfoy, at least not directly. Somehow Harry knew that Marvolo was incensed on his behalf in regards to the apparent lack of respect he was receiving. “While you may have given them leniency, they must remember themselves in proper company.”

“Yes, My Lord, forgive me, My Lord,” Malfoy rushed out. “It will not happen again.” Harry ignored the flash of gratitude in all three Malfoy's eyes at his hurried explanation. He just didn’t like seeing people needlessly tortured, that was all.

The table fell to uneasy silence and Harry hated it, it was like a meal suffered through at the Dursleys. “An Unspeakable does sound intriguing,” he began, drawing eyes to himself once again as he focused on twirling his pasta around his fork. “I didn’t get a chance to observe much when I visited that Department earlier this summer,” he would fully admit that the nervous flinches from the adults and the glare from Marvolo at this casual reference amused him more than it should have, “but what I did see showed that it was certainly a place worthy of bright minds. What are the rest of you wishing to do?”

“I’d also like to work in the Ministry, Lord Potter,” Nott began looking timid but his voice was even. “Whether in the Department of Magical Education or in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, I’m undecided.”

“I’m interested in a researching profession, Lord Potter,” Greengrass said from her place beside Nott. “I find ancient and complex magic fascinating. I feel an Unspeakable would suit me well in this endeavor but I’d like to keep my options open.”

“Given that I am undertaking an ancient magic myself, I can share your passion for such a career. I can’t speak much on the topic but I’d be happy to say what I can in order to help you pursue your research.” Greengrass looked like he had just given her every Christmas present imaginable and Harry gave her a kind smile. He really was interested in helping people, no matter how it was done. “I have a friend, who I’m sure you know who I am referring, who would also be an invaluable resource in regards to research.” Now Greengrass looked contemplative but didn’t look disgusted at the idea of approaching Hermione. Maybe learning that his friends had gone against Dumbledore was helping their perceptions?

Harry finally turned to look at Pansy who looked oddly embarrassed but spoke after an annoyed nudge from her father. “I’ve always found being a Healer to be an interesting pursuit, Lord Potter,” she said quietly.  

Harry was confused at the looks of disdain appearing on several members faces. “A Healer? An aspiration for the weak,” the Death Eater at the end of the table sniffed. “No stomach for a fight, eh? Rather stand back and hide while the rest of us do all the work? ”

“I actually find being a Healer to be an admirable career,” Harry cut in harshly, glaring at the man at the end of the table once again, though in his peripherals he saw that a few of the other adults seemed to hold a similar opinion but were smart enough not to speak out. “What’s your name?”

The man seemed put off by the change of topic. “Thomas Travers, Lord Potter.”

“Travers, right, so saving lives is for the weak? I bet you won’t think so next time your life is in the hands of one. What is weak about literally being the reason someone lives or dies? You could win a fight but be badly injured. What’s the point of winning if you die due to injuries just a few hours later. Healers deserve the utmost respect for what they have seen and done. Sometimes a hospital is far more gruesome than any battlefield. Also, being a Healer requires a precise hand and coolness under pressure, the exact qualities desired in any fighter. It also requires intelligence, which is obviously something that you lack. People always do put down that which they cannot do themselves.”

The man, Travers, was fuming now and had his wand out but at a quick glance to Marvolo remained seated. “I do find myself in dire need of Healers,” the Dark Lord commented softly. “I currently only have one spread amongst all of my followers. Lord Potter is right that there is no use of winning if you cannot live to enjoy it. Another Healer will be needed in the times ahead.”

Dinner continued from there but Harry didn’t participate in any conversation that arose, he was exhausted and just wanted to sleep. The events of the day were compounding with the energy spent holding a conversation with an idiot. However, he remained straight-backed and poised and allowed his eyes to flicker to whoever was speaking though he didn’t process the words said. It was just the adults talking now anyway. 

After what seemed like ages, dessert was cleared away and Marvolo stood gracefully, an indicator for everyone that the meal was over and they were also free to leave. Hoping for a quiet getaway, Harry gave a polite nod to Marvolo and slipped out of the dining room doors. Some tea and an early night sleep was just what he needed. 

Luck was not with him at all that night though because just as he was reaching the grand staircase, a voice called out to him. With a sigh, Harry turned to see Parkinson trailed by Malfoy, Nott and Greengrass a few feet away. “Yes, Parkinson?”

“Potter, I just,” she began and stopped, her fingers twisting before she took another deep breath and raised her head to meet his eye. “I wanted to thank you for what you said about Healers.”

“It was the truth. Healing is a noble profession and anyone who thinks otherwise is an idiot,” Harry leaned now against the bannister and glanced past the brunette Slytherin at the three behind her. 

“I agree, but that isn’t how it’s viewed by many in our circle. It isn’t a proper career path for a Pureblood heiress. Even Daphne wanting to do research is frowned upon.”

“Why? What do they expect you to do?” Harry asked confused as the other three came in line beside Parkinson. 

“Marry and have children,” Greengrass huffed, looking very cross at the idea. 

Harry rolled his eyes at the archaic way of thought. “Then they need to get out of the Dark Ages. Seriously. Look, Parkinson, if you want to be a Healer than be a Healer. It is honorable and rewarding but also very hard and definitely not for the faint of heart. And based on how well you did with your shield work today I can tell that you are very influenced by protecting and saving others. Just the motivations a Healer needs. Voldemort even said that he needed Healers so you know you’ll have a place to serve him.”

Parkinson oddly seemed to swell with pride at his words and not just the bit about serving Marvolo. It was an odd feeling to have caused that sensation of pride in another and Harry found he liked it.

“Did you mean what you said?” Greengrass interjected. 

“You’ll have to be more specific.”

“About you telling me about your Necromancy for my research and how I should reach out to Granger.”

“Yes,” Harry replied without hesitation. “Like I said at dinner. I can’t divulge everything but knowledge should be shared. Ignorance leads to fear, as seen by the minimal information about Necromancers leading people to believe horrible things. It’s something I want to change and documentation and research will go along way for that. And yes, Hermione would love a research partner. You’d be surprised at how adept that girl is in a library,” Harry chuckled and the Slytherins smiled weakly. “And remember, she is siding with me. They’ve all told me that they will willingly join the Dark if that is what I decide. Even if I don’t I’m sure you’ll be seeing more of each other, so might as well make friends with them.”

Greengrass nodded and so did the others. “Right. But still I-”

“Greengrass,” Harry sighed.

“Daphne,” she cut him off. 

“What?”

“Call me Daphne.”

Harry eyed her for a moment before nodding. “Deal, then you can call me Harry. But just not in front of Voldemort or the other Death Eaters it seems.”

“Pansy,” Parkinson added with a nervous smile. 

“Pansy,” he replied with an answering smile. 

“I go by Theo,” Nott said standing just behind the two girls. 

“It looks like this is really happening,” Malfoy sighed before stepping forward and holding out his hand. “Draco.”

Harry looked at the outstretched hand and had a momentary flashback to the start of First Year when he had rejected the same mans handshake. Were they friends now? Harry wasn’t sure if he would go that far but they would be interacting together more and he had agreed to let others use his first name. Maybe it was time to really put the past five years behind them. They were on the same side now after all…temporarily. Harry glanced up into Draco’s light blue eyes and realized that the blonde was having similar thoughts and memories swell up as well. 

“Harry,” he finally said, grasping the hand and shaking it firmly. Draco smiled and Harry couldn’t help but chuckle at the solemnity that had descended upon them. “Well, this has been great but I’m off to bed.”

“Right, sorry for you keeping you,” Theo chuckled backing away with the others. “We’ll see you tomorrow for more training.”

“I’ll be here,” Harry quipped, raising a hand to wave briefly before continuing his journey up the stairs to his room. 

Sleep was desperately needed now. 


	15. He's Our Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the viewpoints of a few other people that were too short to be a full chapter so they got combined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything is J.K. Rowlings. I only claim the plot. Everything else is hers, all the characters and the magic, all of it. Please let me know what you think though, I encourage feedback of all kinds, just be nice about it!
> 
> Thank you for sticking with me through this. And I appreciate all of the positive feedback. I had a little struggle with this chapter but I hope you still enjoy it. I also went back and forth on the Patronus bit, like multiple multiple times. But I think it is better this way and I hope you will all agree. I'll probably go into the explanation later on. 
> 
> The Snape interaction should be coming up within the next chapter or so. So far the votes say for Snape to be Dark and a mentor figure for Harry.

**He's Our Son**

Ron sat in his room with Hermione, Ginny, and the twins. It had been four days since they met with Harry and they were going to approach his parents and Remus tonight. Hermione and Ginny had convinced his mum to invite the werewolf over, saying how he was probably feeling horribly alone right now. Of course, his mum jumped on the idea and at the prospect of the twins being over for dinner as well, she was happily bustling about the kitchen while his dad kept to the workshed.

“How are we going to do this?” Ginny finally sighed. She was leaning against the frame of the bed on the floor, her legs kicked out in front of her and arms crossed.

“Delicately,” Hermione offered. She sat on top of the bed, leaning against Rons’ knees that were propped up while he leaned against the headboard. He was thrilled at the contact and would have loved to pull her closer to his chest to wrap his arms around her, protecting her from the craziness of the outside world.

“We feel them out first,” Ron began, his brow furrowed while he strategized a plan, pushing thoughts of cuddling Hermione out of his head for the moment. “Mention Harry or something, offhand. Like how it will be weird him not going to school with us or not being here and see how they react.”

“What if they aren’t receptive?” Fred asked. He and George were leaning against the wall closest to the door and acting eerily serious.

“Backtrack?” Ginny offered weakly. “Change the subject and hope they forget about it and suffer through an awkward dinner.”

“Should we have some topics to fall back on if they aren’t as on board as we thought?” Hermione asked, she was rubbing at her chest again, so Ron knew that she was worried and he wished he could comfort her. “So the backtrack can be done smoothly, and it doesn’t look like we are floundering.”

“Probably,” Ron agreed. If he could strategize and plan everything out maybe that would take the weight off of the curly-haired witch’s mind. “Start talking about your shop,” he said nodding to Fred and George. “And we can ask about Bill and Charlie. Bring the topic completely away from Harry or school.”

“What if they start out OK with things but then go against him?” Ginny asked nervously. “What then? By then we might have said too much.”

“Obliviate?” Hermione suggested quietly.

The room was silent before slowly each Weasley sibling gave a short nod of agreement. “Yeah, to protect Harry,” Ron said, not recognizing his own voice.

Dinner arrived far too quickly and soon the group was separated by his mum's calls for help setting up and preparing dinner. Hermione and Ginny were set to chopping vegetables and peeling potatoes, while the twins were in charge of setting the table and then cleaning up the living room, and Ron was put in charge of dragging his father out of his shed.

“Hey dad,” Ron greeted, stepping into the overly packed shed filled with muggle knick-knacks. Ron remembered last summer, Harry and Hermione had tried explaining what some of the items were and so he recognized a toaster and a lava lamp.

"Ron, son, how are you?” His father asked, standing up from bending over one of his work tables.

“Great. Mum says dinners about ready and Professor Lupin will be here soon.’

“Right, right,” his father muttered, looking back at the pile of items on his desk. Now would be a perfect time, Ron thought, to feel his father out about Harry. But how? His mind turning over the possible conversation starters, he licked his lips.

“Say, dad-”

“ARTHUR! RON!” his mothers' shrill scream cut him off.

“Looks like we’ve been summoned, eh? Best head in before your mother gets upset,” his father chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder and guiding him out of the shop.

“Yeah,” Ron mumbled, cursing himself for missing his chance.

Arriving in the house, Ron could smell roast wafting from the kitchen. Remus was already there, looking pale and shaky, Ron wondered if the man had been drinking recently.

“Hey, Professor,” Ron greeted the man.

“I’m hardly your professor anymore, it’s just Remus,” Remus replied kindly. Despite his outward appearance the man still kept his gentle nature which was a relief. Ron had been personally worried that all of the news might have been the last straw and the kind man would fly off the handle.

Food was brought out and everyone took their seats and began filling their plates. Ron sat between Hermione and Ginny with his mum next to Ginny, the twins on the opposite side of him with Remus between Fred and his father and George next to Fred and his mum.

The five teenagers kept exchanging glances with each other, trying to determine who should start the conversation. Ron couldn’t taste his food as his stomach knotted tighter around itself. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore and decided to start talking. He never did like silence.

“So, school starts soon,” he said probably louder than necessary but his nerves were frantic. He was surprised he was capable of holding his fork at this point.

The three adults blinked at the random comment but just nodded.

“Yes, my baby girl is starting her O.W.L. year and you and Hermione are starting your N.E.W.T.s. You’re all just growing up so fast,” Mum whimpered lightly, her eyes going shiny at the thought.

“Yeah, I’m so excited to be starting on our career-focused subjects,” Hermione chimed in. “It’ll be nice to not have additional distractions.”

Ron nodded and saw the twins looking intently between the three adults, observing closely. “Should even be a relaxed year now, you know? What with Harry not being there with us.”

It had started. Ron felt his heart stop as he held his breath. There was no turning back now, he had brought Harry up now and so began the part of feeling out the adults to determine their loyalties. He could feel Hermione and Ginny tensing beside him which only fed his own frayed nerves.

“It will be strange, him not being there,” Ginny agreed softly, her eyes flickering between her parents and former teacher. “I wonder if we should continue the DA?”

Ron watched his parents and Remus exchange looks. “Now children, we wanted to speak with you about this and so I’m glad you’ve brought it up,” his dad started. Ron glanced at the others and swallowed hard. This wasn’t what they planned for.

“Now, I know what Dumbledore said and given the article that came out with Harry’s interview confirming it,” Remus began, shifting between the twins looking far paler than normal. “Well, we understand that you might be upset about what happened. Might be blaming Harry for choosing to be Dark. Well, magical inheritances, they can’t be chosen. You were all able to accept me for being a Dark creature when I didn’t have a choice. Harry didn’t either.”

Ron’s mouth hung open and so did the others. This was far easier than he thought it would be.

“Harry didn’t have a choice in his magical inheritance. And even if he is Dark as the Headmaster claims,” his mum took over. “Having an inheritance doesn’t take away your memories, so Harry does still remember us. He is just afraid right now and all alone.” His mum started tearing up now and so his dad took over.

“What your mother, Remus, and I, are trying to say is, if Harry does contact you let us know. We want to show him that getting an inheritance isn’t the end. Even if Dumbledore believes it is... Well Dumbledore is a great man and a powerful wizard but there are instances where he is wrong.”

Ron sat at the table feeling incredibly numb. Things were going far better than he thought but not completely.

“Actually, Mum, Dad,” Ginny said breaking the silence that had fallen, her gaze flicking to her brothers. “We wanted to talk to you about Harry too. It’s good to hear that you are so receptive.” Ginny tugged on a strand of her hair. “Because well, he has contacted us.”

The three adults stiffened. “What? When?” Remus asked, gripping the table edge in his urgency. “Is he alright?” his mum asked. “Why didn’t you tell us?” his dad asked.

“We didn’t say anything because we weren’t sure how you would react,” Hermione answered nervously.

“We couldn’t risk Harry’s safety,” Fred continued.

“We had to find out whose side you were on first,” George finished.

“Whose side? What are you talking about?” Remus asked frowning in confusion, his gaze shifting between the teenagers rapidly, Ron thought he saw a bit of an amber tinge creeping in.

“Before we say more,” Ron started and saw Hermione gripping her wand under the table just in case things went south. “We need to know where your loyalties lie. Are you with Harry or are you with Dumbledore?”

“Why are they on separate sides?” his dad asked and Ron swallowed hard. “Dumbledore is just confused, once Harry shows him that he hasn’t forgotten himself then things will be alright.”

“No, Dad, it won’t,” Ginny answered sadly. “Again, do you side with Harry no matter what he chooses so long as he is safe and happy or do you side with Dumbledore and his actions.”

“Harry,” Remus replied instantly. “I’ll always side with Harry, he is all I have left.” The man's voice cracking slightly at the end of the proclamation.

“What do you five know? Why would Harry not want to side with Dumbledore?” his father asked slowly, his eyes taking on a calculating gleam that Ron had never seen before reminding him that his father had fought in a war once before and survived.

“Answer the question, dad,” Ron insisted. “Do you trust Harry or Dumbledore? Who has your loyalty?”

His parents exchanged a glance that seemed to communicate an entire conversation. Ron's heart thudded harshly in his chest and his mouth was dry. What would his parents decide? What would they have to do if his parents chose Dumbledore? Ron saw Hermione’s wand hand slowly start to rise and he clenched his fists, silently pleading with his parents to choose Harry.

“Harry,” his mum breathed and Ron felt lightheaded.

“There must be a reason that Harry and Dumbledore aren’t on the same side anymore and if there is then we trust Harry,” his dad continued.

“He’s our son. He always has our support,” his mum finished.

Ron and his siblings crumpled in relief and Hermione almost dropped her wand as she sagged forward. “Thank Merlin,” the twins breathed.

“Let’s go to the living room, we will explain everything there,” Ginny said, standing up and everyone followed suit.

Remus claimed a chair but sat on the edge with a stiff spine, he looked ready to leap into action. His parents sank into the patched loveseat, gripping each others hands looking anxious for news. Ron stood with the other four in the center of the room.

“Alright, the truth is, we rescued Harry from Dumbledore back when the Headmaster was keeping Harry locked up in old Headquarters’ basement,” Ron started, thinking it better to just lay it all out on the table. His mother gasped and Remus growled.

“Way to ease them into it, Ron,” Ginny hissed glaring. “A little more gently would have been nice. Ron is right though,” she continued facing the adults. “Remember when Dumbledore and Moody rushed out during breakfast on Harry’s birthday? Well they weren’t lying, he had received his inheritance and they did go to get him, but that’s where the stories differ.”

“They brought Harry back to the basement and tied him to a chair behind bars. Ron and I snuck down a few days later to investigate and we saw him there. They tortured him, Moody and Kingsley. And that woman did die as Harry said in the article. They were trying to bind his inheritance and his inheritance lashed out. When we saw him he was still tied to the chair and behind bars. It was terrible.”

“He didn’t even know what was happening. No one had even told him that he was a Necromancer,” Ron continued when Hermione broke off, her eyes were glassy with the memory and he squeezed her hand. “So we devised a way to break him out and we did. He hid with the twins for about a day before Dumbledore came snooping.”

“This is the part of the story where you have to remember your loyalty and trust in Harry,” Fred said seriously.

“Harry is safe, he is with people who are helping him,” George insisted.

“Where is he? Why are you so concerned about our reactions?” his mother asked fretfully.

“No!” Remus growled, standing now, his eyes fully amber now. Ron swallowed hard, feeling fearful of the man for the first time since that night in Third Year.

“Yes,” Hermione answered. “Please, Remus, hear us out. Please.” The werewolf gave a nod but didn’t sit.

“It’s true. Harry did seek out _Him_ ,” Ginny confirmed, his parents gasped and Remus bared his teeth.

“So Dumbledore was right? He has gone Dark?” his dad whispered.

“No!” Hermione insisted. “Well, not fully…”

“Harry is where he needs to be,” George said loudly, making the adults fall silent. “He is a Necromancer, a Dark inheritance that hasn’t been around for centuries. Who better to help him than the Dark themselves?”

“But we have met with Harry and he really hasn’t changed. He is still the same boy you claimed as your son,” Fred continued. “The same son that your best friends died for. He has an inheritance now and he is trying to control it so he doesn’t hurt anyone.”

“Yes, he has gone and sided with Voldemort but can you blame him?” George picked up after his twin. “Dumbledore certainly didn’t offer help. Harry is safe and he is learning and he is far better off than he would have been staying here.”

The room fell silent and Ron blinked rapidly at the intensity radiating off the twins.

“You’ve met with him?” Remus asked finally.

“Yes, he invited us to old Headquarters not long after the article came out. He has Kreacher and Dobby fixing it up really nice. He means for it to be a safe house for those he cares about,” Ron replied.

“He made a deal with _Him_ ,” Ginny continued, the three adults flinched. “According to the deal, He will leave all those loyal to Harry alone, if they did the same in return. He and Harry have sworn to not harm each other as well for as long as this partnership lasts.”

“Harry swears it’s temporary,” Ron added with a wry grin. “I’m not sure how long that will last but for now it is.”

“Harry is really safe and OK? Is he happy?” his mother whispered, she clung to his father's arm and her eyes were wide. He had never seen his mother look so vulnerable before.

“Yes, he is,” Hermione assured them.

“That is all we need to know,” his dad sighed. “But, can we meet with him?”

“I’m sure that can be arranged,” Ron agreed, feeling a weight lifting off his shoulders.

 

* * *

 

 

Harry Potter was the exception to every rule.

This was a fact to the mind of Theodore Nott.

Theo prided himself on his intelligence and his ability to observe. And this ability was being put to the test like no other this summer. Ever since Harry Potter rushed up to him and his friends in Diagon Alley running from Dumbledore his entire summer had flipped.

Previously he had spent his days finishing his homework, relaxing with his friends as they speculated on the coming years, the impending war, the upcoming school year; swapping gossip they had gleaned from their parents, and further getting to know Daphne. They had been betrothed since they were five and had grown up as close friends, however, at the beginning of the summer he officially asked her to be his girlfriend and to begin courting and she had accepted.

Now though his days were spent training under Potter’s instructive hand and witnessing the tides of the war shifting first hand. It was remarkable and it was all because of Potter.

Because of all this, Potter had become his newest subject to study and it was proving insightful.

Theo thought back on the Introduction Ceremony, the Dark magic that had been rolling off Potter and the Dark Lord had left him weak-kneed and struggling to breathe. His father had had to keep a firm hand on his back to help keep him upright. Theo had felt that Dark magic once again when he and his friends had been ordered to befriend Potter by the Dark Lord while their parents were in a meeting. Theo had felt daunted by the task. _Befriend Potter?_ The Gryffindor Golden Boy surely wouldn’t want to be near the likes of them and he wasn’t bound by the same orders to obey. Theo had felt hopeless in the face of the seemingly impossible task as they approached the shirtless teenager practicing a craft that had been thought extinct. The Dark magic had been rolling off of Potter in waves and Theo started feeling dizzy, witnessing Crabbe and Goyle swaying with a glazed look in their eyes. The others hadn’t fared much better. He felt drunk as the magic continued to wrap around him, calling him.

The Dark Lords' magic was seductive and intriguing. He felt enlivened and invigorated in its presence, energized to fulfill his Lords’ wishes. The desire to please in order to feel his Lords’ magic once again embrace him couldn’t be compared. But Potters' magic was intoxicating and comforting. It reminded Theo of home, like a warm hug, supportive and encouraging. The yearning to please in order to feel that soothing hold wrap around him also couldn’t be matched.

When Potter started talking to him, Theo was presented with someone who was completely different from what he expected. Potter presented a rather Slytherin side when dealing with Theo and his friends and Theo found his respect and admiration growing the more he interacted with the former Gryffindor. There were still some Gryffindor tendencies, such as not making the defense lessons part of the favor he owed or how he spoke out against injustice and cruelty like during the Introduction Ceremony or during that first dinner against Travers.

And of course, Potter could get away with such a balance of the two houses, because he was Harry Potter and rules and boundaries didn’t apply to him.

It wasn’t just the Dark magic and Slytherin attitude that surprised Theo though. Potter’s whole look had changed. The day in Diagon Alley the Gryffindor had been sickly looking, sweaty and covered in grime, desperate and pleading. Even in school, Potter wore clothes that were too big, his hair a constant mess, the past few years he had been more broody than normal but he had appeared as average at best. Now though, his clothes were well-fitting, his hair controlled to an extent, and he held himself with a confidence and casual ease that Theo envied.

He wasn’t the only one to notice the change either, Pansy, Tracey, and Daphne had all become giggly and dreamy-eyed whenever Potter’s back was turned. He noticed it after the third training session. Apparently, Blaise and Draco had noticed the trailing glances and lingering eyes as well, so after the fifth day when they had all returned to Malfoy Manor to relax before dinner, Blaise had brought it up.

The eight of them were spread out in Draco’s room, Vince and Greg were leaning against the bed frame on the ground, Draco and Blaise were sprawled out on Draco’s large canopied bed, Tracey and Pansy were huddled up on the loveseat while Theo and Daphne were cuddled on the large armchair that easily fit both of them.

“So, what’s the deal with you three anyway?” Blaise asked. “I mean with Potter, you all act like you’re hit with a Giggle Charm every time he is near.”

At just the mention of the Darks' newest ally, the three girls started giggling again. “I mean, is it not obvious?” Tracey asked. “Potter is quite the specimen.” Blaise, Draco, Vince and himself wrinkled their noses but Greg was nodding a red tint creeping into his cheeks.

“Ugh, I can’t believe you lot like Potter,” Draco sneered.

“Daphne!” Theo cried out horrified that his girlfriend was in such an agreement.

“You saw him with his shirt off, Theo,” she bemoaned to him, giggling with Tracey and Pansy as she said it.

“He is fit!” Greg agreed, which had the girls all beaming at him for supporting their observations.

“And don’t even deny that you aren’t trying to get close to him, Draco,” Pansy snapped back. Draco looked sheepish at that, grumbling slightly.

It was true, Draco was most definitely attempting to prime himself to be Potter’s right-hand man. Though if what Potter said about his Gryffindor friends was true than Draco would find himself out of luck, since he doubted Granger and Weasley would relinquish those spots. The idea of a muggleborn and Weasley previously so entrenched with the Light even considering joining the Dark was again really something else that only Potter could do.

“And he really knows his stuff,” Tracey chimed in. “He is so kind and gentle when he instructs, he makes you feel like your the only one in the room when he talks to you.”

“He is so brave and sweet,” Pansy sighed dreamily, she seemed to have it the worst of all of them Theo thought. “The way he talks to the Dark Lord, he really is His equal, but he is funny too and so powerful. You felt that Dark magic coming off of him.”

“You weren’t so interested at the end of term,” Blaise taunted.

“I didn’t know him then, not really,” Pansy responded primely. “Plus, he was the enemy we weren’t allowed to be interested.”

That talk still lingered in the back of Theo’s mind as he interacted with Potter in the following days. He supposed he could see what the girls meant. Potter really did seem to draw people to him, draw them in and make them feel at ease, it was unnerving.

There was one thing that continued to stick out to Theo though, despite the changes the summer had brought. The closer proximity had only increased his awareness of what he had previously observed over their years at school.

It was that Harry Potter was the exception to every rule.

Survived the Killing Curse. Made the Quidditch team in First Year without trying out. Got a broom in his First Year. Broke countless school rules and got rewarded. If the rumors were true, he killed a massive Basilisk at twelve and could cast a fully corporeal Patronus at thirteen. Got selected to participate in a tournament he didn’t qualify for and won. Snuck out of Hogwarts and into the Ministry, fought adult Death Eaters and came out on top. Became a Necromancer, one of the Darkest of the Dark and was still able to make it out to the public that he is the innocent and naive Golden Child they all love. He became a Lord of three Ancient Houses at just sixteen. Previously held beliefs and conceptions held no grounds when it came to Potter.

And lastly, the rule that still scared and impressed Theo that Potter continuously broke: defying the Dark Lord.

Potter rebelled against every rule and broke them easily. He refused to bow to the Dark Lord and the Dark Lord allowed it. Potter refused to offer any inkling of respect or submission and the Dark Lord allowed it. Potter disobeyed and openly defied him and the Dark Lord allowed it. Potter argued and the Dark Lord allowed it.

Theo seriously doubted there was anything that Potter couldn’t get away with. He could now, literally get away with murder, thanks to an old law that Avery and the Lestrange brothers dug up.

Bemusedly, Theo followed his friends down the halls of Slytherin Manor following the very conundrum of a man that was Harry Potter going to another training session. They were going to Hogwarts in less than a week and already Theo had learned a lot.

Soon, Potter was forming them into a line facing the dummies. They were progressing to other spells today. So far Potter had drilled them in Stupefy, Protego, and Expelliarmus so much so that Theo could confidently cast Stupefy and Expelliarmus silently, the others could as well with Pansy, Draco and Daphne being able to cast Protego silently as well.

Today was Reducto, Bombarda, and Episkey. Potter was insistent that on top of defense that they all learned a basic healing spell as well. The group was silent as Potter demonstrated and observed them all before getting deeper into the instructions.

Tracey was right, Theo inwardly admitted. Potter knew how to teach and when he worked individually with you it really did feel like you were the only ones in the room. He focused on each and every one of them, working with them individually to help them. Theo had never seen Vince and Greg learn spells so quickly and he knew it was all because of Potter. It was always because of Potter.

“Exactly, Pansy,” Potter was complimenting towards the end of the lesson.

They were working on Episkey now having already dealt with the first two. Knowing that Pansy aspired to be a Healer, Potter had taken to helping her from that angle. Talking about the different methods she could heal someone after they had suffered from the spells covered. Given Episkey was a healing specific spell meant Potter focused a bit more on her.

“Thanks, Harry,” Pansy replied her cheeks reddening and swelling with pride.

Theo couldn’t help but roll his eyes as her look of adoration followed the raven-haired man after his back had turned to help Blaise. That was one thing that had certainly remained the same even after the changes of the summer. Potter was still completely oblivious to the attention of both men and women who fawned on him.

“Great job everyone,” Potter praised at the end of the lesson. “I know school starts up soon, so I’ll cover some new stuff tomorrow but other than that we will focus on perfecting what we have so far. When you come back over the holidays I might even start teaching you the Patronus Charm.”

“Really?” Daphne breathed, her eyes wide.

“So the rumors were true? You can actually cast one?” Blaise asked, his dark features looking eager at the thought.

In answer, Potter drew his wand and shouted ‘Expecto Patronum’ and a brilliant, silvery skeletal winged horse burst forth and trotted around the room looking for potential threats. “Huh,” Potter murmured as the spectral image faded. “A thestral, that’s new.”

Theo blinked, a thestral? The creatures only visible by those who had witnessed death? He felt uneasy realizing he had just seen an image of it and resisted a shudder.

“What?” Tracey breathed, blinking her eyes almost dazedly.

“Used to be a stag, like my dads,” Potter commented with a slight frown, staring at where the Patronus had faded. “Well, anyway, yeah, during Yule, I can start teaching you guys that. I taught the DA how to last year. Or I started, most were able to get it or at least the shield before we got disbanded.” Theo saw Draco’s ears pinken slightly.

“An impressive feat,” a voice sounded from behind Theo and promptly he and his friends spun to a kneel. The Dark Lord had entered who knows how long ago. Theo feared punishment for neglecting to acknowledge the feared Dark wizard as soon as he entered, but there was none. The Dark Lord was focused on Potter and seemed to accept that the children of his followers hadn’t meant to be disrespectful. This was something that Theo’s father marveled at being different. His father had told him stories of the later years of the previous war how the Dark Lord had become so paranoid and ruthless and that any perceived slight was met with severe punishment.

According to his father, they were still tortured if they did something displeasing or were disrespectful but it wasn’t to the same level as before. Theo had a pretty good guess as to why, or more appropriately, who was the reason behind the change. The man currently grinning cheekily at the most feared Dark wizard of all time with no tension to be seen, completely at ease.

Yes, most definitely: Harry Potter was the exception to every rule.

 


	16. Not Today

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s September First and instead of catching the Hogwarts Express Harry is arguing with Marvolo and talking with Snape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything is J.K. Rowlings. I only claim the plot. Everything else is hers, all the characters and the magic, all of it. Please let me know what you think though, I encourage feedback of all kinds, just be nice about it! 
> 
> Now, a couple things before we start.  
> First: I apologize for the delay but I have deployed, the third time in two years, and before that it was the holidays and I was trying to focus on family. I will try to work on this and my other fic, The Right of Conquest, that I have posted on ff.net, as often as I can. But, I can’t give any guarantees. 
> 
> Second: Confrontation is not my strong suit and I’m really trying to work on that in regards to my dialogue, so any feedback is appreciated. 
> 
> Third: Here is a Time Frame for Reference of the story so far
> 
> July 31 - Inheritance. Kills Vernon and Hestia Jones. Trapped in Grimmauld basement.
> 
> August 6 - Friends save Harry from the basement
> 
> August 7 - Wakes in twins apartment, flees with Slytherins, goes to Voldemort. Kills Pettigrew. 
> 
> August 8 - Visits Gringotts. Dobby returns Map and Cloak. Voldemort offers Harry dueling lessons. Dumbles visits the Burrow. 
> 
> August 9 - Introduction Ceremony
> 
> August 11 - Article by Dumbledore. Meeting with Lucius and Avery. Hedwig returns. 
> 
> August 12 - Interview with Skeeter and Bones
> 
> August 13 - Harry’s article is published. Meets with Avery and Lestrange brothers. Purposefully harnesses magic for the first time and kills rose bush.
> 
> August 14 - Meeting in Grimmauld Place
> 
> August 16 - Encounters Slytherins/OWL scores
> 
> August 18 - Weasley kids and Hermione talk to Weasley parents and Remus
> 
> August 25 - Theo’s perspective. Harry casts his Patronus and sees it is a thestral
> 
> September 1 - Hogwarts Starts

**Not Today**

Sunlight streamed through the dark blue curtains and Harry squinted at the light. He had been lying in bed for almost an hour now, unable to get the motivation to move. His mind kept replaying scenes of this day from the past five years. He could easily imagine the movements of his friends. Mrs. Weasley would be calling everyone to bring their luggage down, fussing at Ron for not having finished packing last night. The Burrow would be filled with chaotic noise and shouts. 

It was September 1st. So many students would be returning to Hogwarts today, crossing the magical barrier at Kings Cross and entering Platform 9¾. His gut twisted. Harry wouldn’t be joining them. He never would again. 

To make matters worse, if that could even be possible, Harry hadn’t been able to meet up with his friends like he had planned. Now he’d have to wait until the first Hogsmeade trip to see them. 

He wondered if it was possible to just not leave bed at all today in order to make the misery end. If he never got up and just slept the day away maybe it would be easier to handle. Easier to accept that he wouldn’t return to Hogwarts. Would never enter the Great Hall as a student, never listen to the Sorting Hats song. His throat constricted and Harry found it difficult to swallow as the pain clenched his chest. 

“Master Death Master,” Tobi’s squeaking voice broke him from his spiraling thoughts. “Great Master is being demanding you join him for breakfast.”

Harry sighed forlornly, not at all in the mood to deal with that devil creature of a man. It was another poignant reminder of how drastically his life had changed. No longer would he spend his years trying to solve the mystery of how Voldemort would try to kill him and face the adrenaline of actually facing the monster at the end. Now, he was starting the day by sharing breakfast with him and later this afternoon they would have dueling practice, as they had done for the past three weeks or so. 

Grumbling, Harry rolled out of bed and dressed in a fog. His movements automatic, brushing his teeth and hair, pulling the robes on that Tobi had laid out. His feet led him to the dining room, his thoughts still reliving his past years. He glanced at his watch. The Weasley’s would be leaving for Kings Cross now.

Harry entered the dining room and saw Marvolo sitting pristinely, reading the paper. “Finally decided to leave bed?”

Harry glared but didn’t respond. The food while just as delicious as always it just couldn’t compare to Mrs. Weasley’s lovingly cooked breakfast this morning. 

“You’re in the paper once again,” Marvolo continued. “Ms. Skeeter has decided to print more of your interview with her today. Explaining how you won’t be returning to school and the scandal of your scores being kept from you.”

Harry again didn’t respond. He had figured the journalist would draw out the information he gave her for as long as she could. She had already printed another article about five days ago gushing about the torture Harry had suffered under after his Inheritance, hinting at Dumbledore’s involvement. 

Glancing at the paper in Marvolo’s hands, Harry glimpsed a picture of himself on the front cover. It wasn’t one he was familiar with and he wondered who had donated it. It was him looking a little younger, maybe his third year, looking harmless and innocent, his glasses adding to his youthful look. 

Anger bubbled in his stomach and mixed with the bitter nostalgic resentment that was building in his chest. 

“I’ll be having a meeting today.”

“Congratulations,” Harry quipped dully. He wanted this day to be over. He flicked his fork through the scrambled eggs but didn’t eat anything. 

“I believe it is time for you to start sitting in on meetings, start learning about the side you have aligned yourself with.”

“Not today.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t deal with minion stupidity today.”

Crimson eyes narrowed. “Those in my service do not lack intelligence-“

“Could have fooled me.”

“-and per our agreement,” Marvolo continued ignoring Harry. “You need to learn about my ideals in order to make an appropriate decision.”

“Fine,” Harry snapped out. “I’ll attend your meetings. Just not today.”

Skin prickling and wanting to fight something, Harry left the room before Marvolo could say more and went to the gardens. Maybe killing some plants would help his dismal mood. His magic already fighting to be released before he fully left the patio space. The magic of his Necromancy gave him distance and he soaked it in. He didn’t want to be in his head today of all days. 

He felt trapped.

He couldn’t control his inheritance. He was trying to make the best of it and for the most part he was happy with how things were going but seeing the stark contrast of how his life would have been had nothing happened on his birthday hurt. Though he had to wonder if Dumbledore would have always been so quick to turn on him, so quick to attempt drastic methods to subdue him.

With a scream, he pushed his magic farther then ever and collapsed to his knees panting. Blinking back to the present, after the high of his magic faded, he grimaced at the destruction he had caused. The entire garden was dead. There was not a green leaf anywhere. Butterflies were dried crisps scattering the footpath and the few birds that had inhabited the trees were no better than rocks on the grounds now.

Wincing, Harry looked about. He pushed himself to his feet and turned to the manor. He’d seek out Marvolo and apologize for completely demolishing the beautiful gardens. Maybe then he’d think about apologizing for his rudeness at breakfast but he stood firm on not wanting to deal with Death Eater meetings just yet. 

Merlin, the thought of apologizing to Voldemort still rankled him. It twisted his mind and turned his stomach anytime he considered it deeply. So he tried not to think deeply on the issue. Live in the moment and plan for the future, don’t look into the past. As he left the gardens he heard the pops of house elves and a few mournful cries at the sight of the gardens. Harry winced again. 

“I’m sorry!” He called out. 

“It is being fine, Master Death Master,” a mournful voice responded. It sounded like it came from behind the fountain, still bubbling merrily away. 

Glancing at his watch, he sighed, his friends would be on the Hogwarts Express now. Ron and Hermione would be at the Prefects meetings, as would Draco and Pansy. Neville, Luna and Ginny would have found a compartment for themselves. His throat constricted once again. Nope, instead of riding the Hogwarts Express with his friends, speculating on the newest Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and playing Exploding Snap, he was killing the garden of the Dark Lord and planning to apologize. 

His feet led him to the Gathering Room, following the call of Marvolo’s magic. It was almost second nature to sense the darkness, it came in handy when trying to find the Dark Lord in such a big house. Thoughts still swirling, he pushed the door open. 

“Hey, Marvo—lous to see everyone.” Damnit! The meeting! Embarrassingly it had been the shrill screams that filled the room that had clued him in. Silencing charm on the Gathering Room, Harry thought absently. He definitely planned on entering a room full of Death Eaters, he had remembered the meeting, this had all been planned. His eyes fell on the Death Eater currently crumpled in a pile on the floor. The one that had been doing the screaming and writhing under the torture curse. 

The mans’ eyes were bloodshot and tear stains stood out on the pale cheeks. The man was favoring one of his arms so Harry was certain he had a few broken bones. Swallowing hard, Harry glanced at the rest of those in the room. 

A long table was set up, the dais where he and Marvolo had stood during the meeting a few weeks ago was gone. Marvolo in full Voldemort persona sat at the head, skeletal and pale, red eyes more prominent without the hair and nose and lips. His wand held lazily in bone-like fingers, pointing at the man on the ground. Over twenty Death Eaters held the seats on either side of the table. 

Harry recognized most of them, which also made his skin crawl. Snape sat next to Malfoy who held the seat to the right of Voldemort. Harry felt ice gather in his gut at the sight of his former Potions Professor. 

Feeling highly underdressed but refusing to fidget or grip at his casual robes Tobi had set out, he gave a nod to the table. His eyes sought Voldemort’s. The crimson was familiar and helped him settle the twist in his gut. A thought he refused to dwell on.

“Changed your mind?” Voldemort queried, reclining regally but his eyes sharply tracking every movement Harry made. 

“Hm? Oh, no,” Harry chuckled lightly, he hoped it didn’t sound too forced, holding tight to his unaffected mask. “No, I came to inform you that all of your gardens are going to need updating.”

“Updating?” The skeletal monster blinked, obviously not having prepared for this course of topic. 

“Yeah. I killed them.” 

“You killed my garden?”

“Yup. The entire thing. The trees, bushes, flowers, birds...yeah all dead. Well I haven’t checked the front, but the back is a corpse. Thought you might want to know.”

“Your warning is...appreciated…” Harry gave a lopsided grin, his eyes glancing over the Death Eaters sitting straight backed around the table. “Was there a reason?”

Harry shrugged. ”Felt like it?” The color loss in the more unknown Death Eaters sitting farthest away from Voldemort and closer to him was satisfying and made up for the lie.

“ _Your timing is good,_ ” Voldemort hissed, many of the Death Eaters stiffened. 

“ _Why? Got bored with your minions screams?”_ Harry hissed back. He gave a nod to the man on the ground. _“What did he do?”_

“ _Needed more motivation.”_ Harry hid his shudder by digging his nails into his palm currently hidden by his robes. “Now. Sit.” The order was made so all at the table could understand. 

Before Harry could respond, Voldemort conjured a silver chair right next to him. Not fully along the edge of the table with the rest of the minions and not sharing the front edge that Voldemort had, but more on the corner, it looked like an advisors seat not involved directly but close enough to hear everything.

“ _I’m not a dog. And_ _I said I didn’t want to join your meeting today_ ,” Harry hissed back. 

“ _Yet you are here now._ _No need to beat a hasty retreat. Where is that bravery you always boast of?_ ”

“ _I don’t boast._ ”

“ _How do you plan on turning down my offer? I already made you a chair and you have nothing else to do seeing as you killed my garden_ . _You don’t want to look weak do you? Appearances and all that.”_

Jaw clenched, Harry glared but made no moves. 

“ _Come now, lion, afraid you might agree with me?_ ” Voldemort hissed, crimson glinting. Squaring his shoulders, Harry met the challenge with his own glare but his feet strode purposefully to the seat and he swiftly sat as pompously as he could. 

“ _Careful, Marvolo,_ ” Harry hissed back as he leaned back in the hard backed, uncomfortable chair. “ _You’ll find lions fight with claws._ ”

 _“Yes, well,_ _snakes strike with fangs._ ”

“ _Lions have a mouth full of teeth. They have no need for fangs._ ”

“Continue with your brief Dolohov,” Voldemort command and Harry smirked at having won that round. The man on the ground, Dolohov, pulled himself to his feet and sank into his seat, about five seats down the table. Harry noted that Travers was delegated to the far end of the table and felt smugly satisfied internally knowing that he was the reason for the seat placement. While Avery and the Lestrange brothers were closer to him on the left side of the table. Bellatrix was missing again. 

Harry distracted himself by looking ominous and seeing which Death Eaters he could scare while Dolohov rambled. If he focused on the Death Eaters then he wouldn’t have to remember it was Voldemort and not Marvolo next to him. Though try as he might, Harry couldn’t completely tune out of the conversation. 

“My Lord,” Rookwood quivered, having been called upon next to speak. “We can place the Ministers advisers under the Imperius within the next week.” Harry yawned extravagantly just to annoy the Death Eater whose eye twitched but didn’t glance at him. “This will allow us to influence the man more directly than just relying on money.” Good to have that piece of bribery speculation confirmed, Harry thought with a small snort.

“Do you wish to add something, Lord Potter?” Voldemort questioned his voice quiet but the danger edged it like a knife. The Death Eaters seemed to have turned to stone at the dangerous tone.

Harry hesitated. Did he want to contribute? Contributing would mean agreeing wouldn’t it? And he didn’t agree! But, he reminded himself, this wasn’t actually an idea, more of a criticism. Yes, he could criticize them. That wasn’t going against any morals. He criticized Death Eaters all the time. 

“Just surprised by how unimaginative and lazy your Death Eaters are.” 

The Death Eaters stiffened even more. “How so?” Voldemort’s hissed coldly. 

“Well, you lot are supposed to be Slytherins, right? Or at least the majority of you are. Where is the cunning? Where is the ambition? Where is the sly, manipulative dealings? Imperius Curse is overused and takes no skill. Boring. All I’m saying.”   

His eyes drifted over those at the table and saw the fearful flickering glances between him and Voldemort. Finally giving in, Harry turned to look at Voldemort too and saw the crimson gaze staring at him but the eyes were unfocused. It probably wasn’t noticeable to others but Harry detected the slight dim of the red. The sight sent a shock through Harry. Voldemort was actually listening to him! Voldemort was actually considering his words, his thoughts! The realization warmed his chest while the ice twisted harder in his stomach. 

The awareness returned to the bloody red turning the gaze more calculating and Harry couldn’t help the challenging fire that started to flare within him. The responding glint brought a smirk to Harry’s lips as a victorious feeling swelled within. 

“Yes,” Voldemort breathed, but the word carried in the silence. “Laziness cannot be tolerated.” Voldemort turned his attention to those at his table and a few shrank tighter into themselves, sensing the danger of the gaze falling on them. Without warning, Rookwood was soon screaming. Falling to the floor, the chair clattering unheard over the screams. 

Harry jerked, his head snapping to the source, but gripped the chair arms to stop his further reaction. The screams reached higher levels. Breathe, Harry cautioned himself. Don’t listen, just breathe. Turning away from the writhing man or closing his eyes against the sight would only be seen as a weakness. His grip on the arms became painful and he worried they would break. Breathe.  

Unbidden, Harry started seeing the life force of those around him. It was the first time seeing it on something other than plants or on the people he had killed. The man’s aura was flickering, flaring and diminishing like a heartbeat. Harry was transfixed at the sight. Against his will he could feel the detached feeling creep in. The screams faded and the flaring life force was the only thing consuming his thoughts. His fingers itched to claim it, to call the life to him. 

“...Potter ...Lord…..Lo...ter… _Harry._ ” Harry blinked slowly, the first blink since he had seen the life aura around the now panting man on the ground. His eyes felt dry and he blinked a few more times. The detached feeling faded and Harry’s field of sight grew from the narrowed focus it had dwindled to.

Voldemort had called to him. Harry took a shuddering breath and forced his hands to unclench from the chair arms. “Gotten a taste for the screaming?” The tone was smug and Harry clenched his teeth. 

“No,” he denied, his words carried out on a breath, though he didn’t turn his gaze away from the man on the ground whose life force was remaining steady though not as bright, the light was fading the more Harry came back into himself. “I saw...his life...flickering…” He took another breath and forced his gaze away from the man and wished he hadn’t. He’d forgotten the surrounding minions.  No, he didn’t want to deal with the stares right now, he still felt raw.

 _“You saw his life flickering?”_ Voldemort hissed and Harry forced his eyes to the Dark Lord beside him. Harry nodded, his heart rate slowly declined. Odd, he didn’t remember his heart racing so drastically when dealing with plants. “ _We will discuss this more later. This might require further experimentation.”_ Harry felt sick at the thought. 

“Now, laziness,” Voldemort continued. “Something that cannot be tolerated. Lord Potter is correct that you have all become far too complacent. Rookwood, rework your plans and incorporate a bit of ingenuity while you’re at it. This goes for all of you.”

Eyes flickered to Harry once more who hoped he had regained his previous composure as he reclined in the seat. Distractedly, Harry wondered at the significance of Voldemort using his own ideas and advice and in front of the others too. To steady his nerves and to show the minions that he wasn’t still shaken, he brought his wand out and began twirling the plain stick of wood between his fingers once again and hoped his face looked bored. 

“Severus,” the hiss curling around the name would have made a lesser man shiver and Harry couldn’t stop himself from flicking his eyes to the dark robed man sitting diagonally from him, two seats down from Voldemort. “What news, my spy.”

“My Lord,” the silky tone caused Harry to swallow hard, there couldn’t be any real doubt now. His Potions Professor really was a Death Eater. Dumbledore was a fool. No one could fake that kind of reverence. “The Order is scrambling. The interview that Lord Potter conducted has caused doubt. Moody and Kingsley being put on trial has many trying to distance themselves from the two Aurors. However, Dumbledore is still holding tight. No one seems willing to believe the accusations against him.”

“They won’t vocalize it just yet,” Harry heard himself say without planning to, fingers still twirling his wand. Eyes snapped back to him. “I know of a few, whom I’ve spoken to directly, that have been turned against the Headmaster.”

Sure, Harry hadn’t actually spoke with Mr and Mrs. Weasley or Remus but he was confident in his friends assessment. He planned on meeting with the three adults in person in a few days. 

Snape must have realized that Harry wasn’t going to speak further because the man swiftly continued. “Dumbledore still remains unquestioned publically,” the Potions Master amended. “Will you reveal your supporters?” 

“Your the spy, surely you can figure it out.”

Harry could swear he saw the man's fingers twitch as though wishing to curse him. It made Harry grinned even more. Snape looked back to Voldemort and continued though. “However, he has spoken of needing to start training the Longbottom boy. Claiming that perhaps the prophecy was misinterpreted.”

Harry grinned at this and it seemed to make those nearest him nervous. “Lord Potter?” A touch of exasperation touching the voice of the Dark Lord.

His grin grew as he tilted his head back to look at Voldemort, his wand still twirling. “ _Neville’s loyalty is securely with me. Dumbledore can try all he wants. It will only waste his time,”_ Harry hissed smugly. Voldemort gave the barest of nods before flicking a hand at Snape to continue. 

“Dumbledore has also called upon a former professor, Horace Slughorn, to return to his position as Potions Master. I have been shifted to the role of Defense Professor.” Harry blinked at that. It seemed strange to see the Potions Master in any role but prowling the dungeons, hovering over simmering cauldrons. 

“It can be assumed that Dumbledore is doing so as a means of displaying trust in you. Use it.” Snape nodded to his Master. 

“There is nothing further occurring, when I return, I will begin gauging the response of the professors.”

“His hand is still damaged?” Voldemort questioned. Harry struggled to keep his face smooth. Why was Dumbledore’s hand damaged? When had that happened?

“Yes, My Lord.”

“Before you leave,” Harry cut in, again speaking without fully thinking. Spinning his wand slightly faster. “I wish to speak with you privately, Pr-Severus.” Harry didn’t look at Voldemort as he gave an order to one of his minions. He felt unbalanced by it himself. But knew he needed to talk to Snape before things continued. Snape could be beneficial to his friends if the talk went well. Harry noted the clenched jaw that was covered by the nod. A flicker of smug satisfaction flickered before Harry pushed it aside.

“Lucius, updates.”

“My Lord, things are progressing well. However, nothing of note has occurred yet.”

A quick blast of orange light had the Malfoy Lords eyes widening with a convulsing of the throat as the blonde man held his mouth shut against the scream and hunched over against the pain. 

“Do not waste the air if you have nothing to contribute.” 

Harry gripped the armchair again with his free hand and clenched his teeth. His wand spun faster. His anger flaring at the unnecessary violence but it served as a satisfactory reminder of who he was actually dealing with. He had allowed himself to slip into a comfortable routine. He couldn’t forget where he was and who was with him. 

“Yes, My Lord. Forgive me, My Lord.”

Harry turned away from the Death Eaters to keep his sneer from forming. It was disgusting to see grown men groveling. He looked at the Dark Lord next to him and saw the vile monster leveling his wand once more. He wouldn’t speak out though. They had an agreement to not injure the other but Voldemort had warned him about interrupting before. It wasn’t Harry’s business anyway. He had no sympathies for the Malfoy Lord, who was he to criticize the Dark Lords methods. He wasn’t part of this, it was all temporary. He couldn’t become too invested. His wand spun faster. 

Malicious glee burned in the crimson gaze as the Dark Lord shot off another spell. Spell holding, Voldemort tilted his head and caught Harry’s eye. Harry wasn’t sure what his face was saying but the spell was released, as Voldemort’s full focus turned on Harry. Words weren’t spoken but Harry didn’t lower his gaze. The speed of his wand twirling slowed. 

“Dismissed. Severus you shall await Lord Potter in the library,” Voldemort ordered as the crowd left, not dropping his gaze either. Snape gave an additional bow before sweeping out of the room. 

Silence settled for a moment before Harry stood, pulling his eyes away, and took several steps to put distance between him and the Dark Lord. He shoved his wand away, not sure if he could stop himself from firing it now that they were alone.

“Something troubling you?” Voldemort asked, the attempt at innocence set Harry’s teeth on edge. 

“Yes. You.” Voldemort was Marvolo now and the man quirked a pristine eyebrow. Harry gripped his hair. “Why do you torture people? So much more could get accomplished if you didn’t. Why do you drag me into things? You’re very aware of how I hate the spotlight and I would think you’d want to keep me, as your ally, happy.”

“Other methods are tedious and time consuming.”

“You get off on it.”

“The thrill of power and control is addictive.” Harry stopped in his furious pacing. “No need to be shocked. I am very aware of myself. To not know your own mind and understand your own desires is a weakness. To be ignorant will get you killed.”

“It’s vile!”

“It’s truth.” Marvolo stood and braced himself against the table. Harry started pacing again. “However much you wish to pretend blissful ignorance, Harry, you cannot deny the truth. You are here now. You live here with me, the Dark Lord. Do not fool yourself otherwise. These are truths that you must accept.”

“It’s a waste.”

“It’s not. Fear keeps people in line. Fear prevents disloyalty.”

“Fear creates cowards. Do you really want a bunch of cowards fighting your battles?”

“I fight my own battles.”

“No. You command battles, you don’t fight them. You and Dumbledore are the exact same that way.”

Marvolo’s hand was around Harry’s throat before he could blink. His legs pressed against the table edge. “Never!” Harry stared into the flames burning in the handsome face. “If you wish to keep this agreement, to keep this truce in tact, you will watch what you say. Is that understood?”

Harry should have backed down. But he didn’t. “It’s truth,” Harry spat back. His blood boiling now, things had been too calm for too long. “Or is this not a weakness you can allow yourself to know?” The pale fingers tightened slightly and Marvolo growled.

Harry pushed off the table and momentarily choked himself by pushing harder against the hand on his throat but the movement surprised the Dark Lord enough for the man to back away. “Admit it. You and Albus Dumbledore are fucking chess masters and everyone else is merely pawns. “

“I am nothing like that crackpot old fool.”

“The two of you sit on your thrones and manipulate everyone!”

Roles reversed Harry managed to back Marvolo into the side of the man's own throne. “Do not think an alliance will protect you forever,” the man's voice was low a contrast to the anger that Harry could clearly see. The man was so furious he was even gaining color to his normally porcelain skin. “Cross too many lines and I will have you disposed of, agreement or not.”

“How are you different?” Harry breathed just as lowly.

“I am the Dark Lord Voldemort! I have studied more magic than any before me. I know power that fool can barely dream of. I will not be sullied and tarnished by a comparison to Albus Dumbledore. 

“Power doesn’t mean shit. Who cares what you know? You still act like arrogant bastards that expect the whole world to cave to your every desire.” 

“It’s only arrogance if I’m wrong.”

“My mistake. You’re not arrogant. No. You hide behind your pawns. You’re a coward.”

Marvolo jerked forward and Harry stumbled backwards. But he kept his back towards the open space of the room, refusing to be backed into anything again. Marvolo stood inches from him, a few inches taller, so Harry had to look up which ignited his fury more. 

“Prove that you are different. Then maybe I’ll take this partnership offer more seriously.”

“Do not attempt to change me, little lion.”

“Not changing anything. But you claim to want me on your side. I’m just giving some advice.”

“You’re advice isn’t needed.”

“Yet you took my advice just minutes ago,” Harry tsked before backing away to the door. Determined to have had the last word and knowing he had to go have another conversation he slipped out the door and grinned triumphantly at the furious “ _Harry_!” hissed as the heavy door shut.

Blood still hot and wanting excitement, Harry made it to the library doors far quicker than usual. He attempted a breath to calm himself but knew it wouldn’t help. He’d be operating on adrenaline until his dueling practice where he could unleash all of his pent up energy. 

The library was quiet when the door slammed open and Harry strode in. Severus Snape turned to face him promptly having never sat down. The two faced each other the silence growing heavy. Finally, Snape gave a small jerky head nod and Harry returned it. 

“Sit,” Harry ordered, claiming his own armchair. He watched the sneer threaten to form before Snape sat as well. Harry stared at his former professor and tried to decide how to start everything. “Now, from my observations it seems pretty apparent that you are playing two pretty powerful men for fools. It is my belief though that you swing more for the Dark team. Is this true?”

Snape stared at him with those cold dark eyes but Harry was no longer a student and had been having staring competitions with a fiery eyed Dark Lord for weeks, so was no longer intimidated by the dark depths. “I am on the Dark Lord's side,” the words felt careful and not completely true. 

“You aren’t always though,” Harry pressed. “You have saved me in the past and gone against his orders. Why?”

“I needed to fulfill my role as a spy.”

Harry stared at the man. He was missing something. He knew it. Something Snape was hiding. Internally he groaned, he was too tense and restless for word games. This was why he fit best as a Gryffindor. 

“Given my inheritance I am now immune to any and all Legilimency attacks. And I’m under no obligation to tell Voldemort anything that his followers tell me. I don’t owe him my loyalty. Now. The truth. Circumstances have changed and we might be able to come to a compromise of sorts. Now, who is your loyalty to?”

The silence stretched. Harry could almost see the man weighing his options. What must life as a spy be like, he wondered briefly. “You.” Harry blinked. Snape looked like he had drank the vilest poison.

“Sorry?”

“You hold my loyalty.”

Harry snorted. “I said the truth.”

“It is the truth, Potter,” Snape growled.

“How? You hate me.”

“I loathed your father and I strongly dislike you,” Snape corrected with a sniff. “However, your mother was my only friend as a child and through loyalty to her the Headmaster received my Unbreakable Vow to protect you at all cost.”

Harry opened his mouth but quickly shut it again. Not sure how to fully respond to this. “Right. However, of the two chess masters. You personally lean more towards Voldemort. Don’t you?” Snape only nodded. “I guess me changing alliances is making your life easier,” Harry chuckled. Snape looked like he was sucking on a lemon. 

“Is there a point to this conversation, Lord Potter? I do need to return to school today.”

Harry scrunched his nose in distaste. “Just call me Potter when we are alone. The Lord bit gets old. Now, you owing me your loyalty will actually work out well,” Harry said leaning back into his favorite armchair and tapping his fingers against the armrests. Snape’s sneer stretched larger. “Oh get over yourself. I have friends in Hogwarts still and I need ways for them to safely pass me information if they need to. Or a safe way for them to get out if the need arises.”

“I swore to keep you alive and protected. I swore nothing of the sort for your little friends.”

“Keeping them safe, keeps me safe. Plus, I’m your Lords ally and by helping me gather information you also help him if that appeases your twisted sense of loyalties.”

The Potions’ Master seemed to be attempting to make Harry spontaneously combust before standing. The suddenness had Harry rising to his feet in surprise. “Fine, Potter. I will assist your little friends. Is there anything else you require?”

Harry sighed. “No, I guess that’s it. Look, can we try to be civil with each other? We will be working together now. Think you can tolerate me enough for that?” Harry asked, holding his hand out to the surly man. 

Snapes lips thinned but eventually did grip Harry’s hand with his own for the briefest of moments, a mockery of a handshake. After a brief nod. The Potions’ Master spun on his heel and in a flurry of robes left the library. Harry groaned loudly as he collapsed back into the chair. 


	17. Do Not Let Me Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry meets Death and chats with Marvolo about his education.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything is J.K. Rowlings. I only claim the plot. Everything else is hers, all the characters and the magic, all of it. Please let me know what you think though, I encourage feedback of all kinds, just be nice about it!
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy it. I’m really kind of nervous about this chapter to be honest. We finally meet with Death. And I was hesitant about what direction to take them. A lot of stories have Death as kind of flighty and with a definite shape but I don’t picture them that way. Death is all around and also right there in front of you and takes any shape, it’s not male or female either (personal opinion don’t hate on me for it). So, right now Death is kind of serious and stern because it is the first meeting but I envision Death loosening up marginally as they progress through their relationship. Anyway, let me know what you think about it.
> 
> Now I need opinions on two things:
> 
> One: Fenrir Greyback. Do I lump him with Bellatrix, all insane and needs to be killed? Or do I take the alternative route I’ve seen people do where he is more misunderstood and actually has a connection with Remus due to being the werewolf who bit him? Personally, I’m leaning towards a nicer Greyback. But I’m open to thoughts.
> 
> Two: The guard members for Harry. A range of Death Eaters who would be willing to venture into the Muggle world. I’m thinking I want to include Marcus Flint for definite. But basically, just thoughts on some Slytherins you want to see, who aren’t currently in school right now, so I can make up the rest.
> 
> I will preferably need these names sooner than later because I plan on Harry venturing into the muggle world probably in the next two or three chapters. 
> 
> Anyway, that is all the housekeeping to deal with. I hope you enjoy.

**Do Not Let Me Down**

Harry wasn't sure if he was more terrified, anxious or eager but his heart raced just as fast as he stood before the solid white oak door of the Ritual Room. Marvolo stood just behind him.

It was nearing midnight on September 12, the night of the new moon. From his journals, it was advised that the first few meetings with Death were held on new moon nights. Harry himself wore only a thin, loose robe that felt like an oversized shirt that hit the back of his calves, and nothing else, keeping his feet bare. He didn't even have his wand on him, which was why Marvolo was there to properly ward the room from intruders. Harry had bathed in cleansed pomegranate scented water, scrubbing his skin raw. And had been on a strict diet of dry toast and bland tea all day, apparently the stabs of hunger shooting through him were supposed to help ground him while the ritual happened. Again, this was customary for the first meeting with Death, the Necromancers way of showing appropriate respect and honor towards their Master.

Apparently, after tonight the only time he'd need to pull out all the ritual stops was when acting as a liaison for family members and those deceased and then it was mainly the others who would need to do fasting and cleansing. Though it was advised to use pomegranate daily, something about the scent made it easier to connect with their Master. Harry wasn't sure he fully understood that yet but he enjoyed the smell and so would start using it daily just to be safe.

Marvolo remained silent behind him. Speaking in the Ritual Room was forbidden until Death arrived but it felt wrong to speak directly outside it as well. Harry could see the curiosity burning in those crimson eyes despite how well hidden it might be to others. Unable to form words to speak, Harry forced his dry throat to swallow and gave a short nod to the man behind him before opening the door and swiftly closing it behind himself.

The room itself was completely bare and white. Not a speck of dust anywhere the walls and floors and ceilings all blending together that Harry wasn't fully certain how big the room was. Earlier that day he had sketched out the modified Necromancers mark: the circle, triangle and the dividing line, in charcoal onto the floor where Marvolo had said the center of the room was. And at the three points of the triangle sat three candles.

Nervously Harry sat in the center of the mark, in the middle of the three candles and took a deep breath. Now, to begin. First he had to light the candles and without a wand, it would require intense concentration to perform the wandless magic. Harry had been practicing this very spell wandlessly and wordlessly as soon as he found out he had to do it, since wands and words weren't allowed. He had managed it wordlessly first, his training with Marvolo helping that. But the wandless had taken much longer. He had only managed it yesterday for the first time. The intense panic of needing to do it was reminiscent of his attempts with the summoning spell during his fourth year and accomplishing it just before the First Task.

Harry always did work best under pressure.

Breathing deeply, his legs folded uncomfortably and his bare ankles pressing into the hard, cold floor, Harry sought his magic. The green flame flared brighter, it seemed every day his magic was larger and brighter than the day before. He briefly wondered if it was his imagination or if it was because he was accessing it more often. Slowly he let out a small trickle to tease out to his fingertips which he then waved over the three candles. A small flame appearing on each wick.

The room seemed to darken once the candles were lit and Harry breathed deeply again. Closing his eyes, he felt the light touches of warmth from the candles as he looked even deeper into himself. Internally he knew midnight had struck and his grip on his magic tightened as he pushed it out, with it he put all of his focus on calling out to his Master, calling out to Death.

The temperature in the room dropped, the candle flames turned a burning white and the fires stretching higher into thin pillars reaching the ceiling. Opening his eyes, he watched the darkness of the room merge into an even darker shape, a shadow that seemed to fill the entire room. His heart raced, his fingers going cold as the temperature dropped further, his breath coming out in short pants.

The shadow took on a more solid humanoid shape. Though the image kept flickering, one moment Harry saw the solid form and the next the shadow stretched to fill every corner of the room. The silence hung heavy in the air and Harry licked his lips.

"Master?" Harry spoke, hating how his voice sounded like a small child's.

What happened next, Harry couldn't describe. The voice he heard filled his head, it wasn't just one voice. It was multiple, layered and blended into a single voice. Harry could hear the joyful vibrancy of children, the brittle rasp of the elderly, the rumbling baritone of men, and the soothing sigh of women.

"You have done well, my Child."

"Thank you, Master." Always be respectful, his ancestors had cautioned. Respect had never been something Harry had been good at, but he was calling on everything he had now. "I am honored to have been chosen as your Child."

The shadow grew solid and stretched out a few more times, each time it grew solid Harry could distinguish more. It was a thin, tall figure, cloaked and hooded, the darkest black he'd ever seen only to fade and lose form once again. Pulsing, is the best word Harry could describe.

"You were chosen for a purpose, my Child. Chosen more specifically than any of my previous Children. Do not let me down."

"No," Harry breathed out. "No, Master, I don't wish to let you down." Inwardly Harry grimaced. He sounded like one of Marvolo's bloody minions.

The pulsing of the shadow sped up and Harry had the distinct impression that Death could read his mind and was laughing at him. "My Child, you were not chosen for your meek servitude. Do not fear me as others have."

Harry felt heat creep up his neck. "Of course," he said, feeling a bit more confident. "What is it that you wish of me? What is my purpose?"

"You must rebalance the world." Wow, no pressure, Harry thought bitterly. "There is none better equipped. You who have seen all sides but still have much to learn. You will be the bridge for the Dark and the Light. You will show how both are needed."

"Why do you care?" The words slipped out before Harry could stop them and he ducked his head low. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean disrespect."

"Speak your mind Child. Again, you may be my Child and I your Master but you represent me and I do not represent doubt or uncertainty."

"I just mean, why do you care about the balance between Light and Dark? Why do you care how Life is lived if you only interact with them when it's over?"

"Death is inevitable while Life is a Blessing." Harry got the distinct impression of heavy sadness as the form held its form for longer. "As you must be the balance between Light and Dark, I am the balance between Life and Death. You cannot have one without the other."

Harry wasn't certain that answered his question, but he supposed it made sense. "How am I supposed to be this balance?"

"Your path is already set. You must continue as you have been."

"You mean you're fine with me living with Marvolo? With working with the Death Eaters?"

"It is where you are meant to be." Harry frowned at that. "The man who fears me needs you. You will need to bring him from his disastrous path, make him whole, make him accept me."

"How?"

"In time. This task will not be set yet. For now, gain his trust. Gain his friendship. I do not wish to claim his Life yet. There is still much he can give. The potential is still there for his Life."

Harry supposed that was true. Marvolo was brilliant, incredibly smart and a good leader. He could see the purpose of not having to kill him.

"What about Dumbledore?"

The temperature dropped drastically and Harry choked on his breath at the sudden plunge. "The Tainted Light has twisted his path. He has no potential. He has no use. He has destroyed the balance. He marked his fate when he threatened my Child. You will bring me the Tainted Light. His soul is mine."

Harry swallowed hard, trying to keep his teeth from chattering. The growl that filled the room pricked his spine and he couldn't stop the shiver. It was strange, hearing that he needed to kill Dumbledore. He had planned on the man dying, planned on the old man dying as part of his revenge but to hear it as an order... Harry couldn't wrap his head around the strangeness.

"Ok, so Dumbledore needs to die. Are there any others?" Harry worried he might need to take notes if the list was too long.

"You shall be pleased Child. You already wish them dead. You who have suffered under them directly. I am granting you permission to exact your justice on the women who have tortured you."

"Umbridge and Bellatrix?" The shadow pulsed and Harry felt the temperature warm slightly. He took that as a yes. "Is there a time frame for these three deaths?"

"Within twelve moon cycles."

Harry swallowed. Right, kill Umbridge, Dumbledore, and Bellatrix within a year. He tried to keep his panic at bay.

"Before the Lives are Claimed, you must continue your skill. You must practice sending souls to me."

"How? I don't want to kill people." Harry's voice cracked slightly.

"Not all who Live are worthy. You will find the unworthy."

"The Wizarding World would go into a panic if I just started offing people on my word alone. That won't help the whole bridging the balance task."

The pulsing increased and Harry thought Death was laughing again. "I care not for the magical ability of souls. Find those unworthy of Life."

"Muggles?" Harry questioned out loud but he got no response. He frowned as he thought it over, it'd be easier to get away with. But what Muggles were unworthy? What Wizards were? "How do I decide if they are worthy? I'm hardly a saint myself. Who am I to judge?"

"It is why you must. It is why you are my Child."

Harry had to bite his tongue to stop his glare. "Right, so. Kill Dumbledore, Bellatrix and Umbridge before the year is out. Practice Claiming souls. And start bridging the gap between Dark and Light. Anything else?"

The pulsing happened again and Harry did glare this time. He didn't appreciate the laughter, even if it was silent.

"Is there anything you wish?"

Harry blinked. He was allowed to choose? He licked his lips and had to look away from the flickering shadows. He tried to think over everything he knew he could do and immediately knew what it was he wanted. "My parents," he breathed, turning pleading eyes to his Master. "Sirius. Can I speak with them?"

"You will. Not this night. But soon. They are most eager." Harry felt his heart leap. "Practice. The next time we meet, I shall judge whether you are ready."

"Will I be able to help others talk to those passed as well?"

"It is one of the ways you will bridge the balance."

Harry nodded.

"Be well, my Child. Seek me at the next moon cycle."

"Yes. Thank you, Master."

Harry bent his head in a semblance of a bow and so missed the shadows fading into mist and then vaporizing. The pillars of white flame returned to the candles, flickering weakly. The temperature warmed and Harry shivered, feeling absurdly tired. Blowing out the three candles he stumbled out of the room. Leaning on the walls as he climbed the stairs to his room, Harry fought to keep his eyes open and his limbs moving. He hadn't realized how much magical energy he had been expending through that conversation.

Tripping into his room, Harry landed half on his bed and knew nothing else.

~*~

Blinking, Harry glared at the canopy above him. Slowly memories of the night before filtered through his mind. His body stiff like he had gone through extensive dueling practice and then ran a marathon. His mouth dry and a slight headache pounding behind his eyes. He had no idea what time it was but his growling stomach and his demanding bladder demanded movement.

Throwing off the covers, before frowning, not remember crawling under them, Harry forced his feet to the floor. Wincing as his muscles protested the movement. He was still in the shift robe from the night before.

The heat from the shower did wonders on his muscles. He grabbed his shampoo and noted the pomegranate scent. He wondered which elf had gotten it for him. He mentioned it off hand yesterday during lunch about the pomegranate requirements and already it was here. He hoped having the pomegranates infused in his shampoo and conditioner would replace the need for water scented with the fruit, Harry felt that might be overdoing it a bit.

Stomach grumbling louder than before, Harry cut the shower short and dried off. He was still sore and tired and was not in the mood for stiff robes. Comfy and soft was needed, so he searched his closet there wasn't much. The elves of the Dark Lord had been more concerned with appearances and expensive materials.

"Ah ha!" Harry let out a jubilant cry when he found what he needed in the farthest corner. It was an open robe but the material was a soft grey and the material was just as soft. Harry pulled on the loose, black, harem pants he had started favoring and a soft white shirt and pulled on the robe. Reveling in the softness, Harry called out to Tobi.

"Yes, Master Death Master?"

"Are there any Death Eaters here?"

"Yes, Master Death Master. Great Master is being having some for dinner."

Harry snorted at the way it sounded and imagined Marvolo feasting on Death Eaters.

"Right. Can you please bring me a large dinner to the library please?"

"Yes, Master Death Master." Tobi disappeared with a crack and Harry went to the Peverell trunk filled with the journals and guidebooks. He had work to do and he was too tired to deal with Death Eaters. He had already slept all day and felt like he could easily fall asleep again. He grabbed a guidebook on Claiming and Saving Lives and some parchment to help sort his thoughts.

His muscles still screamed at him and he was pretty sure his magic was still too drained to try even the smallest of spells. Entering the library, he automatically moved to his favorite chair and folded himself into it. A tray of sandwiches, pumpkin juice and tea, already on the coffee table next to it. Smiling softly to himself, Harry quickly wolfed down two sandwiches before draining the pumpkin juice.

Hunger abated for the moment, he took a sip of his tea before turning his attention to the guidebook and parchment. He fingered the parchment as his thoughts began to spin, scratching out nonsensical words and doodles as he tried to sort his scrambled thoughts.

He wasn't going to focus on the three he needed to kill just yet. By the sounds of it, he would get his chance for them in time. He also couldn't focus on being a bridge just yet either. That would take time and come in stages. For now, he needed to work on how to Claim Lives and how to deem someone worthy.

Teeth worrying his lower lip, Harry tapped the quill tip on the parchment. Who was worthy? Tea finished, Harry still hadn't come up with a response. Maybe he was approaching this in the wrong way. How would the world benefit from not having certain people? Who were the drains on society? Who did everyone mutually despise? He certainly couldn't speak for everyone. But most people agreed that murderers were pretty despicable. But he now also lived with murderers and Death hadn't indicated he should off all the Death Eaters.

Who else besides murderers...Well killing was bad, bullies too. But who were bullies but people who abused their power over others...Harry's eyes widened as a thought started to blossom. Yes, abusers weren't worthy. Abusers of a high degree specifically, two types came to mind. The smile that stretched his face was not kind as satisfaction spread through him at deciding who he should send to Death.

"It is typical to see a smile, such as that, on one of my most feared. Has your conversation last night affected you so drastically?"

Harry jolted and saw Marvolo moving to recline in the seat across from him, the coffee table between them. "No, it did affect me but not like that. I've not become mindlessly demented anyway."

Marvolo glared but didn't respond, obviously waiting for Harry to continue. Remembering Death's advice to gain Marvolo's friendship and trust, Harry decided to do just that. Not because he wanted to, obviously, it was just because he was doing his job. The reasoning sounded weak in his own head but no one else needed to hear it, so it was fine.

"I have been given a few tasks, I suppose you could call it. More to come later, but a few to start with. One of them being that I need to start practicing Claiming Souls and I needed to determine who is worthy of Life and who isn't. I've just decided on who to go after."

Harry watched Marvolo; the tightened look around the eyes and the stiffness of the shoulders would indicate on another man that he was nervous. Harry thought nervous was a little too strong, but cautious was definitely a better fit. "And?"

"Well not specific people, not yet. It's more of a category I am going after. It's not you or your Death Eaters. Well not all of them," Harry smirked, thinking of being given Deaths' blessing to kill Bellatrix. "I'll be going after Muggles actually. Easier to hide what I'm doing and won't make the Wizarding World go into a panic."

Marvolo's perfectly trimmed eyebrows arched. "I can understand your reasoning for going after the Muggles. I myself support the decrease of their kind, but what will you do when the Wizarding Light members learn of this?"

"I believe that once they learn of the people I go after they will understand. I also don't plan on broadcasting it," Harry glared.

"Well then, who has been deemed unworthy to live?"

Harry flushed at the mocking tone and looked down at this parchment. "Child abusers and rapists," he said, looking back up to the Dark Lord. "Sick bastards who use their power over others. Those are the ones that I think everyone will agree need to be purged from this Earth."

Marvolo tilted his head, his legs stretched in front of him and he brought the tips of his fingers together in front of him. "Admirable. Of course, I will lend you support in this endeavor and guards for when you do venture into the Muggle world."

"I don't need guards."

"You will have guards." Harry growled at this. "Per our agreement, I must offer you protection. I will grant you the chance to provide suggestions on who shall be apart of your guard, but you will have them."

"I get to choose?"

"Yes. You will be claiming souls, I don't wish to send someone who might accidentally get in your way." Marvolo sent him a look that had Harry snickering. "You will have many applicants to choose from though."

"Why would so many offer to guard me?"

"What do you know of magical children, Harry?" Frowning, Harry shrugged. "Magical children are a blessing. They are cherished. The single accusation of abuse of any kind towards a child can destroy a person's entire reputation. Actual evidence of abuse, again of any kind, results in a minimum of twenty years, if not life."

Harry gaped at Marvolo. "Seriously?"

Marvolo nodded. "Any magical child is considered precious. It is a reason why the Weasleys and Malfoys hold such hostile feelings. The Weasleys ability to have so many children and being unable to afford them on top of the feud between the two families makes them highly antagonistic."

"Wow," Harry breathed. He wasn't sure about the feud but it did make sense. "So, because I'll be attacking people who harm children I'll have a lot of people wanting to seek justice." He found it strange that Death Eaters would be so willing to seek justice against abused children.

"It is one of my core foundations," Marvolo continued.

"You're against child abuse…" Harry said slowly.

"Yes, I'm very much against harm to children." Marvolo said softly, his eyes looked distant. Harry had a sudden desire to understand, to learn the reasoning behind the distance. He knew Marvolo had been raised in an orphanage based off the diary memory but what else had happened? He shook himself, his exhaustion was messing with his head.

"Right, forgive me for not believing that given the fact that you tried to kill me as a child, multiple times."

"You were a special case."

Harry snorted. "I'd have been fine not being so special. Thanks."

His thoughts drifted to think of the Dursley's. What would have happened if someone had known. Had anyone known? Maybe he could have been saved. But he had told Dumbledore...well not details but he'd said how they hated him. Shouldn't that have been enough for an investigation if children were so precious. Or was he just not included in that category of precious children, because he was special because he was the Chosen One.

"Harry." Blinking, he forced his bitter thoughts aside to look at Marvolo. The man looked curious, calculating and concerned? Was that the third emotion...surely not, but there was something else. Harry realized his name had been called multiple times. "I didn't realize child abuse was such a prominent subject for you."

"It's pretty prominent for those who live it," Harry bit back sharply.

"What do you mean?" Marvolo shifted minutely to lean forward ever so slightly.

"I lived it. I lived the abuse. Why wouldn't I care to make sure it doesn't happen to others?"

"You are the Chosen One, the precious Light's Child."

"Yes, where in that description does it say to be well loved and cared for?"

"The first person you killed was your Uncle. You didn't show remorse when you spoke of it when you arrived. I thought it was an effect of your Necromancy to make you numb to the death. But you actually wanted him to die."

"Wanted him to die might be a stretch. I wished he had suffered countless times growing up. I wished for all of them to suffer, my Uncle most of all. But I hadn't planned on him dying."

A crease formed between Marvolo's eyes as he searched Harry's face intently. "What did they do?"

"Why do you care?"

The air between them became thick. Harry felt like they were on the edge of something he couldn't identify. The next few heartbeats fragile and uncertain. Harry felt a weight of possibilities stretch before him.

Marvolo straightened and his eyes grew closed. The thickness dissipated and the moment shattered. Harry took a breath, blinking away the intensity. His gut twisted bitterly at the sight of the man falling behind the proper Dark Lord mask.

"I will hold a meeting tomorrow for you to state your intentions and your desire for guards. I recommend having at least six with you."

Harry sighed and settled further into the chair, nodding resignedly. His attention drifted back to the parchment in his hands and he started scratching out the contacts he would need before he actually started Claiming Souls. He debated whether he should bring Amelia Bones into his confidence in order to have better access to Muggle criminal records.

"Now, Harry," Marvolo said calling his attention back. "You need to start planning the courses you will study and your tutors." The change of topic should have surprised him but it didn't.

"Why do I have the feeling you already have all of this planned and are just telling me to make me feel included?" Harry snickered at the slight grimace on the mans face proving him right. He probably should be upset about Marvolo planning all of this without him but Harry was admittedly lost on the planning of it and so welcomed the help. Not that he would say it out loud.

"Yes, well, I have suggestions and recommendations for you." Harry gave a nod for the man to continue. "For Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, I recommend the Lestrange brothers, Rabastan and Rodolphus respectively. Both were highly sought after after their graduation in those fields and I know they have taken to reviewing in their time since Azkaban. You already work with them through Avery and so it shouldn't be too strenuous."

Harry swallowed hard at the thought of working with the Lestrange brothers even more. His guilt over Neville doubled as he knew he couldn't really turn it down. Of course Death Eaters would be his tutors. Who else would Marvolo trust to come to his home? Sending a silent plea for forgiveness to Neville, Harry nodded his head once again.

Turning to lock eyes with Marvolo once again, Harry tried not to grip his knees to tightly as he waited for the other recommendations. "I suggest Julien Nott for Transfiguration and Thorfinn Rowle for Charms."

"I'm assuming these men are highly qualified?"

Harry had to bite his tongue not to laugh at the affronted look Marvolo had. "Why would I suggest anyone less than the most qualified?"

"What about Defense? I plan on getting my N.E.W.T in that too."

"I thought that was obvious. I will be teaching you."

"Wait, seriously?"

"You are to have the best instructors imaginable. I am unable to instruct you in every subject based on the amount of time that would consume, but the men I recommend are adequate replacements. Better than any of the professors at Hogwarts anyway."

Harry stared for a moment. "Sure, but you actually teach me Defense?"

"I am instructing you in Dueling, Defense will not be that far of a stretch."

"You talk like this alliance will last until I take my exams."

Marvolo stared at him and Harry stubbornly refused to fidget under those red eyes. "Don't be so quick to jump ship, little lion. Wouldn't want to seem too eager." Marvolo drummed his slender fingers on the armrests and Harry wasn't sure if he could drop his gaze if he wanted to. "You agreed to consider my offer, so don't be so quick to assume the future."

"And I told you what needed to happen for me to seriously consider it."

"With your additional studies, you will need to sort out a schedule for yourself." Harry glared at the avoidance but also felt relieved to be moving away from the deeper territory they had been approaching.

"Let me guess, you have suggestions for that, too."

"I did not become the Dark Lord without being prepared."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Right. So what do you suggest?"

"Continue your Dueling lessons at their current time. Breakfast and dinner are also already set. I don't believe you wish to conduct lessons during the evenings. So, I suggest three lessons a day. Dueling and Defense will be merged and so Dueling will be extended. Before then, I suggest a class in the morning and one directly after lunch. Alternating days for the two classes."

There really wasn't much that Harry could fault in the suggestion. It still allowed him to have his evenings, which would probably be taken up by studying, and then his morning runs and meditations. Finally Harry just gave a resigned shrug and nodded. What else could he do?

"Yeah, I guess I could do Transfiguration and Charms in the morning and then Arithmancy and Ancient Runes after lunch before Dueling. Not every single day though. I'll need breaks for mental sanity and to work on my Necromancy and my Lordships. So every fifth day I'll get a day off, minus my Dueling and Defense lessons." Harry wasn't keen to give up his Dueling, it was a great stress relief.

"I will alert the four tomorrow and you will start the day after. I don't believe you are in a strong enough state to practice magic today nor do I believe you will be ready tomorrow."

"It was a lot more draining than I thought it would be," Harry admitted, looking absently at the guidebook in his lap.

Silence fell once more and Harry got the impression that Marvolo wanted to ask him more but was too dignified and proper to bring himself to do so. Instead, Marvolo summoned some parchment and a fresh set of tea for the both of them. Harry let the sound of the quill scratching, lull him into a strange sense of contentment as he began reading through his guidebook.


	18. You’re Among Your Trusted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione reflects on the recent changes during a Hogsmeade weekend, while her and the gang meet with Harry and the Slytherins. It’s as much a meeting as it is a reunion.   
> There is also some references to the Potter Indian origin as well. So I hope no one takes offense to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything is J.K. Rowlings. I only claim the plot. Everything else is hers, all the characters and the magic, all of it. Please let me know what you think though, I encourage feedback of all kinds, just be nice about it!
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me guys! Your reviews really help me keep going. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Next is the 'muggle hunting' and some more Slytherins come to play.
> 
> I don't think I have any housekeeping to mention, though I am still taking opinions on Greyback, currently it seems to be a tie between misunderstood and nice vs unhinged and Bellatrix level demented. Maybe I'll find a way to merge them, still not sure yet.
> 
> Again, reviews and ideas for story plots are always welcome. I hope you enjoy!

**You're Among Your Trusted**

It was Hogsmeade weekend today and the Great Hall was loud and boisterous. Students all eagerly discussing the first trip of the year. Hermione sat beside Ron and across from Ginny and Neville. Hermione's stomach twisted in anticipation for the day's events. Luna had received a note from Harry at the beginning of the week telling them to go to the Three Broomsticks at two that afternoon. He said there would be a reserved, private room for them.

For her birthday last week, Harry had made a show of sending her a parcel at breakfast that was immediately confiscated by the Headmaster. Hermione and Ron had then been called to the Headmasters office after lunch and were told that the package had been a portkey meant to kidnap them so that Harry could then torture them for information.

Dumbledore had even let them read the letter attached and Hermione had had to bite her tongue to stop the giggles at how over the top it was. It had been in Harry's scratchy writing, and it went on for two pages on how worried and scared he was and how much he knew that if her and Ron were with him it would just be so much better and that if they came to visit him, things would be okay. The pleading and desperation would have been heart wrenching if Hermione hadn't already known that Harry was perfectly fine and living nicely in Voldemort's manor.

Dumbledore had reiterated how crucial it was for them to come to him for any information they had on Harry and the two had dutifully agreed.

This was why Luna received any correspondence Harry tried to send. If it wasn't through Luna then through Snape. Neville or Ron would be called to stay behind after class under the pretense of getting a detention for destroying a potion. That night they would relay the message before continuing on to the detention Snape had still given them.

The start of the school year had been the hardest, now a month later things were settling. All of the students turned to them for confirmation of the Headmasters accusations. Because they were Harry's best friends so they obviously would know whether he had really turned Dark.

Hermione and Ron suffered the worst but Ginny, Neville, and Luna got questioned as well since they had gone to the Ministry at the end of last year. Their position as spies had been dicey for a bit but they had practiced ways to both appease the Headmaster while also dropping seeds of doubt to the students.

" _It isn't really hard to believe that Harry would turn Dark, I mean look at his track record," one would start to say, usually Ron or Ginny would take this role. "Parseltongue and that whole Chamber of Secrets nonsense."_

" _Though, he did slay the Basilisk and save the school," another, typically Luna or Hermione, would innocently say, a fake look of frustration splayed on their features._

" _All a ploy. I mean the Headmaster wouldn't have allowed such a Dark monster to live at the school. Right?"_

" _And then those special privileges. I mean a Quidditch player as a first year? Dark magic for sure."_

" _Odd that the Headmaster would have allowed such a thing if it was so obvious that an eleven year old was Dark though."_

" _Well what about the TriWizard Tournament? He had to have been doing Dark Magic, right?"_

" _The Headmaster would never have allowed it. I mean, the Headmaster wouldn't put his students at risk just for the sake of one. Right?"_

" _Unless, the Headmaster didn't know?" This would be voiced with the hesitancy of someone unwilling to believe that such a beloved man would ever sacrifice others. Neville usually had this line because coming from the bumbling, shy Gryffindor the seeds of doubt were more believable. "But he's the Headmaster, he'd have to know that one of his students was Dark from the start. Because, Potter has to be Dark, right. Because the Headmaster says so."_

The group had this discussion, and other similar variations, so rehearsed that they could recite it in their sleep.

Some people didn't think deeply about their statements and would just accept that Harry was Dark and the Headmaster was right. Others, mostly those in the DA and other Gryffindors, those who had interacted with Harry on a more personal level, would nod but step away with a puzzled look in their eyes and a slight frown forming on their brows. The Slytherins were keeping a particularly close eye on them and it unnerved Hermione. Malfoy and his minions still picked fights with them in the corridors but mostly their looks were suspicious and observant. Hermione knew Harry had interacted with that group a lot before the summer was over. She wondered restlessly about how much they knew about Harry and them. Did they know they still supported Harry? Were they bringing word to Harry about perceived disloyalty? No, Harry wouldn't believe them even if they did. He knew their loyalty and friendship remained with him. He had to.

The four Gryffindors joined Luna and soon the five left Hogwarts to go waste time in Hogsmeade before they would meet with their friend. As the hours passed, the anxious excitement started to build. Hermione could see it in the eyes of the others too. They were all eager to see Harry again. It had been far too long and secret, short, letters just weren't the same.

Hermione missed Harry dearly. He had been one of her first real friends. And his absence was always made the most prominent through the most innocent of moments. It'd be breakfast and Hermione would catch sight of the small empty space between Ron and Neville. Or when Ron and Ginny started up a discussion on the Gryffindor Quidditch team and Harry wouldn't be there to voice his thoughts as Captain. Or they would be huddled around a table in the library and have a glaringly empty chair. The Common Room wasn't as bright without Harry curled up in one of the arm chairs as he scowled at his textbooks or lost again to Ron in chess or cajoled her and Neville to join him, Ron, and Ginny in a game of Exploding Snap. She knew the others felt the ache of his absence as well, Ron and Neville probably most of all because they had to witness his empty bed in the dorm room every morning and night.

"Think we should head to the Three Broomsticks?" Neville finally asked, glancing at his watch. "We are supposed to be there in half an hour. Never hurts to be early."

"Yeah, let's go," Ron agreed, his arm thrown comfortingly around Hermione's shoulder.

Since their return to Hogwarts, Hermione had noticed a definite change in their relationship. Ron had become far more physical with her, almost subconsciously. Squeezing her hand under the table when questions and pressure were growing too much, pressing his leg against hers in the Common Room when she started to feel more stressed and the pain in her chest grew too much, or casually throwing an arm around her when they walked places as though he could be her shield against anything dangerous. Hermione was forever grateful to him for these gestures. And even though he still complained and procrastinated about his homework and still preferred chess and Quidditch to anything academic, Hermione found she couldn't fault him as much for it. Though she still refused to let him copy, admittedly he hadn't asked for that favor in weeks.

"What is the name the room is reserved under?" Ginny wondered as they drew closer to the Three Broomsticks.

"Padfoot," Luna replied airily.

The five entered the Three Broomsticks and the noise temporarily deafened them. Neville and Ron pushed through the crowd to reach the bar where Rosmerta stood with Ginny, Hermione, and Luna following behind them. Rosmerta didn't even bat an eye but simply gestured to the hall tucked in the back near the bathrooms.

"Room Four, I just sent in the glasses of butterbeer with the others," was all she said before her attention was taken by a demanding customer at a booth farther away.

"Others?" Ginny frowned as the group dodged exuberant students and grouchy customers.

"Oh yes, this is a meeting as much as a reunion," Luna said.

Reaching the door with the number four painted on it, Neville gave a quick triple knock before opening it and letting the others file in before he quickly shut it again. "Harry!" Ginny's cry had Hermione stepping out from behind Luna and Ron to see her best friend standing in the room and she joined Ginny in rushing him in a hug.

"Hey guys," Harry chuckled, puffing Hermione's hair out of his mouth. She flushed and attempted to flatten her curls pushing them behind her ear. Ron and Neville gave Harry manly slaps on the back and Luna crushed him in a hug as well. "Grab a seat, Rosmerta got us some butterbeer."

"Harry, you know how risky it is to let someone here see you, we can't know everyones loyalties," Hermione scolded.

"I know that Hermione. I didn't order them. They did," Harry retorted with a nod to the other side of the room. Hermione turned to see their audience. The Slytherins of their year already occupied some of the tables and couches of the room. It was an odd room, looking more like a living room or Common Room then a place where business would typically be held. There were four couches, a table with five wooden chairs and a tray of butterbeers, three arm chairs, and a fireplace tucked into the corner

"You look nice Harry," Luna said, claiming a seat next to Tracey Davis and Blaise Zabini, who both eyed her curiously, on one of the couches. Goyle and Crabbe were seated at the table chairs, stiff backed and sullen looking munching on some of the pastries that came with the butterbeer tray. Greengrass and Nott were cuddled on one of the other sofas and Hermione wasn't interested in sharing the couples space. Malfoy and Parkinson occupied another couch, so Hermione, Ginny, and Ron claimed the fourth spare couch and Neville settled himself in one of the arm chairs.

Hermione glanced at her friend as he reclaimed his own armchair. He did look nice, she thought. New clothes, muggle and stylish: dark jeans, leather boots, a collared shirt, and then a leather jacket similar to what she had seen Sirius wear in old pictures completed the look. His lack of glasses and already naturally tanned skin just completed the entire look.

"Going for the bad boy heartthrob vibe?" Ginny snickered and Harry flushed, tugging at his hair nervously. And the movement was so Harry and so common and expected that it soothed some of Hermione's worry at the sight.

"Yes, what's the occasion?" Davis asked.

Hermione eyed the Slytherins warily and couldn't help but notice the appreciative glances the three females were giving her best friend and she had to bite her cheek to hold in her amusement.

"I'm going out to the muggle world tonight," Harry began. "I'll get to that in a minute though. First off, I wanted to introduce everyone to each other."

"We know each other already," Parkinson sniffed and Hermione ground her teeth tightly.

"Like you knew me?" Harry quipped. "Listen, I get that you lot came to me under His orders originally, but I feel that over the last few weeks of summer that we came to a decent understanding. That being said, I hope to continue to work with you and I hope I can trust you to assist me when needed."

"Forming your own Inner Circle?" Blaise asked, his darker skin tightening into a calculated frown.

Hermione shifted uneasily. The alliance isn't temporary, Hermione reminded herself, no matter what Harry says now. This is his chosen path, he is integrating himself with the Dark and the Dark have their own methods for things; a more defined hierarchy. He is your friend and you support him and trust him, she reminded herself. It wasn't a hard reminder, Harry would always have her loyalty and she would never abandon him. Still, it was strange to watch him in this new environment after not seeing him for almost a month.

Already she could see the changes. He looked healthier; filled out and no longer scrawny. And while not exactly relaxed, he seemed more confident and self-assured. He was not the lost, helpless child who constantly ran recklessly into danger to save people. He was a leader. She had seen this side of Harry emerge occasionally throughout their years, usually when they were about to face danger, or when they were entering the Ministry, or he was instructing the DA. This confident, powerful, individual who people admired and looked to for direction, this was her best friend and she couldn't help but look at his changes with pride.

"Not an Inner Circle exactly," Harry countered slowly. "I know your allegiance aligns steadfastly with that of your parents and you will all no doubt continue on to follow Voldemort. As I've said before, this is all temporary," Hermione heard Ron snort softly beside her and noted a few eye rolls around the room on the side of her friends and the Slytherins. She smirked, it seemed only Harry really bought that line. "I'm not going to steal you away or something. However, Voldemort has agreed that seeing as you are all my age, you might be able to start assisting me and my plans before continuing on to help him. Currently his plans and mine are in alignment."

 _Spoken like a politician,_ Hermione thought.

"Like I was saying, I hope to consider you all friends and that I can trust you as I trust them," Harry continued nodding to Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Neville, and Luna. "Fred and George are included as well, but they weren't able to make it today. Anyway, to get that trust I need you to all work and trust each other. You don't have to be best friends, but I do expect you to get along and put aside past grievances, we are all on the same side and things will go more smoothly if we don't have petty arguments."

"People will get suspicious if we are all suddenly friendly at school," Nott said.

"Oh yeah, I'm not talking about in public," Harry said with a dismissive wave. "But there are ways you can meet secretly," his mischievous grin made Hermione want to smile as well. It was a look the Weasley twins sported when something particularly masterful and wicked was about to occur. "You're all intelligent, I'm sure you can work something out."

There was silence as the two groups eyed each other, only Luna sat perfectly at ease. "Alright, fine, we can work together," Malfoy finally said. "We will agree to put aside our differences and only antagonize you lot in the public hallways for the sake of appearances, if you can agree to the same."

Hermione glanced at Ron, Neville, and Ginny. Luna was already smiling serenely. "Deal," Ron finally said. "I'm sure we can work out an arrangement."

"Now, to make sure this trust thing actually has a chance, I'd like for us each to swear a secrecy oath. Not to disclose any information outside of our group, unless permitted to do so. And don't worry, anything that I ask of you will not counteract Voldemorts' orders. And anything I tell you, I'll probably have also told him."

The Gryffindors and Luna were quick to swear their oaths, the Slytherins agreed after a few minutes of silent debate and were led by Malfoy.

Harry's grin was bright and eager at the sight of the two groups coming together. "Brilliant! I'm glad this is working out. And I don't plan to hold this oath over your heads, so don't worry about it, it's just a little insurance. We will be talking about Voldemort, and mine and his plans. I don't want the potential of that being leaked. Oh, Hermione, before I forget. Your birthday present. I know it's late." Hermione accepted the neatly wrapped package that Harry sent her way with a surprised look. "What you didn't think that portkey I sent on your actual birthday was the real thing, eh? No, Dumbledore would have been suspicious if I hadn't tried to contact you on your birthday, especially since he doesn't think I've made any attempts so far. I had to try something so he wouldn't dismiss you all just yet. We still need him to trust you after all."

"Nice work with the letter by the way," Ron commented with a grin. "Very heart wrenching. I was feeling for you mate." Harry grinned toothily. "Were you channeling your inner First Year Hufflepuff?"

"Thanks, took me a couple tries, I kept laughing and dropping ink blots all over the parchment."

"How did you make the portkey?" Ginny asked as Hermione unwrapped her present. It was prettily wrapped in an almost silky fabric of a shimmering black with a pretty, soft pink cloth holding it together in a bow.

"Voldemort," Harry replied easily, before a frown flitted across his face.

"What's wrong?" Ron asked, picking up on the change. The rest of the group turned their attention back to Harry, Hermione's half unwrapped present untouched in her lap.

Harry huffed. "Nothing, he just pissed me off this morning. I mean the damn bastard cheated and wouldn't even admit it."

"He cheated?" Greengrass repeated slowly.

"Yeah, during our morning run. I've beat him every single morning and then this morning just as I was about to beat the lousy tosser again, I tripped. He didn't even bother to hide his wand after casting the tripping jinx."

Hermione gaped at Harry and knew her astonished sentiments were repeated by everyone else in the room. Harry and Voldemort went on runs together? Harry was ranting about how the Dark Lord cheated to beat him in a race. _No_ , she told herself as her mind started to dive deeper into possible meanings and drawing connections, _nope, don't focus on that right now,_ she cautioned herself and went back to opening her present. Those were thoughts for another day.

"Oh, Harry!" She cried out, drawing attention away from Harry's rant to the gift in her lap. It was a book, obviously a copy and not an original, for it looked old and leatherbound but felt like a smooth new surface against her fingers. She delicately ran her finger over the engraved golden title that was written in runes she couldn't decipher.

"The scarf is for you too," he began, indicating the soft pink cloth that had held the wrappings together. Blinking, Hermione pulled the pink cloth out and smiled delightedly at the sight. Holding it and looking at it more closely, she saw that it was chiffon with faded golden sparkles scattered throughout. "I thought you might like something in addition to a book," he continued.

"Oh I do," she assured him, wrapping the scarf around her neck and marveling at how soft it felt.

"Oh, Hermione, it looks really good on you," Ginny gushed happily at her side. "It really goes well with your tan."

Hermione beamed at Ginny and glanced at Ron who gave a soft smile and nodded, fingering the material lightly. "Beautiful," he said quietly, making her cheeks burn. She saw Greengrass and Parkinson eyeing the scarf in admiration.

"Now, care to explain this book," she said, with a smirk looking down at the book on her lap.

"Ah, yes, I got it from the Potter vaults." The Slytherins now looked more interested in her gift as well, leaning closer to see it. "I visited them recently and found this among others. Admittedly I have the original for myself, but I thought you would appreciate the copy. Not that I don't trust you with the original, I just couldn't risk Dumbledore getting it. It's runes but Indian, I believe based in Hindi mainly."

Hermione found it difficult to breath as she stared at the treasure of a book in her lap. Her fingers itched to open the delicate pages and dive into the new learning.

"Potter, Hindi runes are incredibly complex and heavily guarded," Greengrass commented, her voice even but the envy evident in her eyes. "Hardly anyone out of India knows them. And even then, just their Rune Masters."

"Yeah, well I figured if anyone could make proper use of them Hermione could. I'm interested in learning them too after I finish with the basics."

"How did a Hindi rune book even end up in your vault?" Ginny asked curiously.

"Oh, well you know how the Potters originated from there. Well, apparently they were really big into runes. Inscribed a bunch into the pottery they made, which is what made their pottery pieces the most desired in the world."

"Harry, they created before they inscribed," Luna commented dreamily.

Hermiones' fingers tightened even more on the leatherbound cover. "These could be runes that no one has used in centuries, runes lost to history," Hermione breathed.

"Merlin, Potter," Zabini huffed, his voice breaking the silence that had fallen. "You really know how to give a gift."

Harry gruffly cleared his throat and ducked his head. "Well, I'm glad you enjoy it. Use it well and make sure Dumbledore doesn't get it." Hermione nodded reverently, rewrapping the book back up in the silky, shimmering black cloth and clutched it to her chest.

"Alright, how's the school year? Has Dumbledore let anything slip?" Harry asked, obviously trying to bring the conversation around.

"He's trying to bring me into his office," Neville sighed. "Luckily, I keep coming up with excuses but he's going to insist soon."

"Going to start trying to train and manipulate you into being the new Chosen One?" Nott asked with a sneer.

Harry nodded with a sigh. "Yeah, that's his plan. Snape confirmed it at a meeting before term started. Let him bring you in next time, we need to know what he knows and how he thinks he needs to train you. I'll look into some protective charms and enchantments to keep you safe from any spells he might put you under."

Neville looked nervous but determined and nodded.

"I can help you," Hermione offered. "I can search the Hogwarts library."

"Great. Greengrass, you like researching, do you think you might be able to help?" Harry asked, dragging the Slytherins into the conversation.

Greengrass eyed Harry critically before then looking at Hermione before nodding. "Yes, I believe we will be able to work together."

"How are your lessons?" Ginny asked, pulling the conversation back again.

Harry grimaced and the others snickered. "Rough. Runes aren't too bad, like I said I'm enjoying the basics and I'm looking forward to learning the Hindi ones and Necromancy runes, but Arithmancy is terrible. I'm doing more practical work on Charms and Transfiguration so that's not bad, that was always my strength. Plus, I think Nott and Rowle are too nervous to assign me rolls of parchment to do at the moment." Harry looked rather smug at this statement and Ron and Neville snickered and the teenage Nott flushed and ducked his head slightly into Greengrass's hair.

"What about Defense?" Parkinson asked with a frown. "I would have thought you would continue that line of study."

"Oh I am, Voldemort is teaching me Defense. It's tacked onto our Dueling lessons."

"How is it living with him?" Ginny asked nervously glancing at the Slytherins, who all perked up. "I mean before you had only just started living with him. Now it's been about two months."

Harry sunk deeper into the armchair and his gaze grew distant. "It's not terrible," he finally sighed. "I'm learning a lot and we get on decently for the most part I suppose."

"He's still trying to make you his partner?" Neville asked and Harry nodded, his brow furrowed as his fingers absently picked at the arm of the chair he sat in.

"Will you show us your magic, Harry?" Luna asked suddenly. The Slytherins looked eager at this but Hermione was confused. Harry eyed Luna carefully.

"Why?"

"You’re among your trusted," Luna replied. "You shouldn't have to hide or keep it hidden."

"I'm not hiding it, I've just got it under control," Harry replied slowly.

"It's alright, mate," Ron said. "It's actually probably for the best, so we can know what it feels like for the future."

Harry still looked nervous. Ginny sighed. "Honestly, Harry, we know it's Dark. You've said as much to us. And we told you we were fine with it. Now, go on."

With a sigh, Harry nodded and after taking a few breaths, his eyes flickered closed and suddenly Hermione was gasping. The air was thick and heavy; a comforting hug that pressed tightly down, holding her safely in its arms. She couldn't keep her eyes open and her limbs were shaking. It tempted her and called to her, soft whispers of safety and protection if only she would allow it. And she would, how could she not? How could she turn down the offer, the call, the seduction of submitting.

Then it was gone.

The dark warmth that had coated her skin retracted leaving her cold. Clean air burned her lungs and stung her throat as she panted. Slowly she blinked her eyes open, she felt limp, leaning heavily against Ron who was slumped into the couch arm cushion, eyes glazed.

"Bloody hell," Ron gasped.

"Morgana's tits, that was-" Ginny began but unable to finish her description simply flopped back into the cushions.

Harry looked sheepish and his already dark skin darkened even further. Hermione saw the Slytherins blinking dazedly, their eyes glazed over, some had goofy grins and looked utterly relaxed, but they hadn't all turned into boneless dolls which annoyed her.

"How are your spells?" Harry asked suddenly, changing the subject and turning to the Slytherins. "Are you continuing to practice them?"

They all nodded. "Aye, most of us can get them wordlessly now. Vince and Greg and Tracey still struggle but even they have gotten Expelliarmus and Stupefy silently," Malfoy said, his voice had a slight breathless tinge and his eyes were dilated but otherwise he was as unaffected as always.

"Brilliant. I'm glad. Like I said, this winter I'll teach you the Patronus and we will work on more spells. You guys too. I'd like to teach you some of what I'm learning."

Hermione felt a flutter of eager anticipation at the thought of learning and practicing new spells over the holidays. "Sounds great," Neville agreed, his cheeks were still flushed and his eyes were brighter otherwise he seemed to have recovered quickly. "How will we be able to meet up though?"

"Grimmauld will be fixed completely by then," Harry replied. "I'll have Dobby and Kreacher bring you guys there a couple times over break so we can practice and exchange gifts and what not."

"Hey, Harry, what about the DA?" Ron asked. At Harry's confused head tilt, the redhead elaborated. "Should we continue it? I think we are starting to get some of the students on our side and against Dumbledore and we don't want them defenseless. Maybe you could pop by and talk to them to ease any further fears."

Harry looked deep in thought but slowly he nodded. "Yeah, that would work. Start it up again but keep it divided. The cover will be for anyone wanting to learn defense but then the reality will be for those few that you think do believe in me and that we can trust, they can be told more of the truth and maybe in a month or so or after Yule I'll sneak in and talk to them. Are there any that are actually not in Dumbledore's pocket?"

Neville nodded. "Yeah, most of the DA actually, except for the pricks like Smith and Corner. And most of the Gryffindors at least seem uncertain, except again for pricks like McLaggen."

"Really?" Harry asked, surprised. "More than I thought. That's great. Well, keep sorting them out. If they are loyal, maybe get them to swear a secrecy oath?"

"I'll write out the words for the oath, so it's consistent," Hermione replied.

"How was Death, Harry?" Luna asked during a lull of silence. The rest of the group stiffened, Hermione included, while Harry smiled fondly at the blonde Ravenclaw.

"Death was...I don't even know the words to describe it," he began, his eyes distant once more, his head falling back onto the chair headrest. "I was given tasks and Death hinted at future tasks I would receive. One task being that I am to bridge the gap between the Dark and Light, no pressure right?" Harry chuckled derisively. "I also have to start practicing Claiming Souls."

Hermione swallowed hard at this news. "Claiming Souls?" She asked hesitantly. "Does that-" she broke off, uncertain in how to word her question. Harry seemed to take pity on her nerves though and his eyes softened.

"Killing? Yes," he replied softly. "Claiming Souls is essentially killing people. I have to practice the control it takes to take a Life, so I can practice properly Claiming Souls in Deaths' name. There is a difference. Different deaths require different blessings."

"Really? Can you give an example?" Greengrass asked, leaning forward eagerly. "And can I take notes?"

Hermione felt a twinge of jealousy at the blonde witch for having thought to ask that before she could and then at Harry's laugh. You're not the only smart friend, Hermione reminded herself. "Yeah, of course, this is something I don't mind you having for your research." Research? Hermione thought, interest piqued and observed the blonde in a more critical light. What research was the Slytherin conducting? Hermione made a mental note to ask while they worked to research protection enchantments. "Anyway, so say a soldier fighting in a war dies, they receive a Warriors' Blessing to pass them to Death, honoring their bravery and courage. However a total sleazebag scum dies and they don't receive any blessings. Those are the ones I'm to start practicing on. And then say, someone that Death specifically wants me to Claim, they've angered him for whatever reason and he has deemed their Life His, then they get a special Recital. It's just a bunch of words spoken in the Necromancers tongue that will guide their Soul to Death in the most painful and direct way possible. Then there is a Blessing of Innocence which is for young children who can't be saved, it is meant to be soothing and gentle for them to pass on easily."

The only sound was the scratching of Greengrass' quill as she jotted down everything Harry said. Hermione was on the edge of her seat and wished she had a quill and parchment of her own.

"You said you were practicing on scum?" Malfoy said, after a few moments.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, Death told me to practice on those Unworthy of Life first and then once I have control of that I'll probably start practicing actually Claiming Souls properly like children or the sick, and soldiers."

"Unworthy of Life?" Neville asked with a frown. "How do you decide that?"

Harry looked distinctly uncomfortable and picked at the cuff of his leather jacket. "It's not easy," he said slowly, not meeting anyone's eye. "Death said he didn't care about the magical ability of Souls for a start."

"Muggles," Hermione breathed and swallowed hard, her eyes stinging at the thought. She felt Ron's warm hand cover her own. Harry glanced at her and looked particularly wrecked but nodded.

"Yeah, muggles. I'm sorry Hermione. But please, hear me out. It's not like what you think."

She took a shaky breath and tore her gaze away, her heart hurting in her chest. But she nodded jerkily. Harry was her friend. He wouldn't just kill aimlessly. He was Dark but he wasn't evil, she chanted to herself.

"I'm not just going after any muggles. Like I said, I'm going after the despicable ones, child abusers and rapists. That lot aren't Worthy of Life, muggle or magical. It's just easier for me to practice and not panic the Wizarding World if I focus on the muggles now. Plus, wizards are apparently pretty against that kind of abuse anyway."

Another deep breath and Hermione felt the tightness in her chest ease. Of course, how could she have doubted Harry even for a moment. He wasn't a killer and she could see in his eyes that while they were filled with a fiery determination to seek out justice he was still a sixteen year old boy who hated the thought of killing, even if it was for a good reason.

"You're going tonight, yes? That's why you are all dressed up?" Luna questioned, well not even questioned more like stated.

Harry sighed and nodded. "Yeah," he glanced down at his nicer muggle clothes. "I'm going out tonight. I've worked with Madame Bones and she's given me a few names she was able to identify from muggle police records. Voldemort is sending me with a guard too." Harry's sneer was laughable. "He at least let me choose my own and the best part is they have to dress as muggles," Harry added, his sneer dropping and joining in the snickering of Ron, Neville and Ginny.

"Who did you choose?" Zabini asked.

"Hestia and Flora Carrow, Marcus Flint, Adrian Pucey, Cassius Warrington, and Graham Montague."

Hermione didn't know much about them but their names all sounded familiar and nothing pleasant was associated with them.

"The Carrow twins?" Davis asked in surprise. "You're allowing girls in your guard."

"Well why not?" Harry asked with a shrug. "If you can't see, I'm used to having females contributing their ideas and strengths," he said with a nod at Luna, Ginny, and Hermione. "And being much better at it than me. Why wouldn't I ask for them? They volunteered."

"Remember the conversation we had in the summer, Potter," Parkinson asked with a sigh. Harry nodded. "Same reason, Pureblood women aren't meant for that."

"Bloody Dark Ages," Harry muttered. "I mean they are competent aren't they?"

"Oh yeah," Nott replied. "Both are great dualists."

"Great, then that's all I need."

"Who will you have to deliver to Death?" Luna asked, making Hermione and the others raise questioning eyebrows but for Harry to stare in amazement at Luna.

"I really wish I knew how you do that," he murmured.

"What? I thought you were supposed to practice the non-claiming stuff now," Davis said with a frown.

"I am," Harry agreed but he looked edgy and Hermione narrowed her gaze.

"That's just the start," Malfoy said, his own gaze calculating. "There are others that Death wants you to properly claim, those he has requested."

Harry nodded but he didn't duck his head in nerves or shame like he probably would have months earlier. "Who?" Ron asked quietly.

"I won't tell you everyone because I'm not positive if I'm allowed to or not. But you will be glad about one." Hermione leaned forward, desperate to hear the name of the person her best friend would eventually have to kill. Why would they be glad? How could they? "Just a certain pink toad."

"Umbridge!" Ron exclaimed and Harry's grin was more malicious than Hermione remembered. "Bloody hell, yes!"

Even the Slytherins seemed pleased by this news. "Thought you lot liked that bitch," Ginny declared, also having noticed the pleased looks on the snakes.

"Ugh, as if," Parkinson sneered. "She was just a means to an end, doing what she asked kept the Minister off of our parents' backs. She was an idiot."

"And a torturous toad," Neville muttered, a dark look crossing his face.

"Any others, Harry?" Luna asked. Hermione noticed Harry's quick glance at the Slytherins before shaking his head slowly. So there were others, just none that Harry felt comfortable to say in front of the Slytherins. A Death Eater or a couple then, Hermione thought.

"The room reservation is about up," Zabini said suddenly, glancing at his watch.

Harry cursed and checked his own watch. "Yeah, you're right. I've got to be meeting the others before we head out tonight anyway. I have to make sure their outfits will pass muggle scrutiny." Harry stood and everyone else followed his action, though he didn't seem to notice. "I think you might be able to make the last carriage if you hurry. Sorry, I didn't mean to take your whole Hogsmeade trip from you."

"Nonsense," Ginny assured him, going to give him a hug. "Seeing you is far more important than wandering aimlessly."

"Besides, we've been coming here for a few years now. Not much else is interesting," Hermione agreed, stepping up to hug Harry tightly. Her eyes stung. She hated that he couldn't join them for the trip back to the castle. After goodbyes were said, Harry went to the fireplace and took a handful of floo powder. Harry glanced back and Hermione had to grip Ron's arm hard to stop herself from rushing her best friend in another hug. But soon he was engulfed in green flames after shouting out a hissed location. The flames died down and he was gone.

The room descended into silence once more, the Gryffindors and Slytherins awkwardly uncertain now that their one common force was gone. Luna stood between the two groups with a distant smile on her face. Hermione hugged her cloth wrapped book closer to her chest.

Neville glanced at his watch. "We won't make the carriages, so we'll have to walk back."

"We won't be able to walk back in a group like this," Malfoy commented, looking utterly bored with the entire conversation.

"Actually…" Ron trailed off before glancing at Hermione. "There is another way of getting back to the castle where no one would see us."

She blinked at him in surprise. "You really think?" She glanced at the Slytherins once more before looking back at him.

"Harry trusts them," he replied slowly, his lips hovering closer to her ear and she had to fight to keep herself focused on his words. "And they did swear that oath. We are supposed to be making an effort to play nice after all."

Hermione sighed but she knew Ron was right. She nodded and he flashed a quick smile before turning to face the others. Even Ginny and Neville were eyeing them suspiciously.

"We have another way of getting back, it's still a walk but not as much. Interested?"

Ginny gasped, her eyes burning eagerly, catching on two what they were implying. "Yes! Which one?"

"The Shack," Ron replied.

"Why not Hon- the other one?" Hermione asked with a frown, choking on the word after Ron tread softly on her foot. "It's closer."

"Too suspicious," he replied easily. "Well?" He asked turning back to the Slytherins.

"Why are you wanting to share this way with us?" Nott asked.

"You heard Harry. He wants us to get along. Plus, this way is quicker. It'll stay secret because you lot are sworn to it. And this way has already probably been burned by Wormtail."

"Ok, we'll keep quiet about this secret way but no more riddles. What are you talking about?" Davis asked.

Ron sighed. "Fine. There is a secret passage back to Hogwarts via the Shrieking Shack. So here's the plan. We leave first," he said, gesturing to himself, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, and Luna. "Give it like five or ten minutes and then you leave. We can't be seen together after all. Make your way to the Shack and we'll guide you from there. If you don't meet us in twenty minutes we are going to assume you walked back along the road and be done with it. Good?"

The Slytherins nodded and so Ron jerked his head for the others to follow. Ginny was grinning eagerly. "I've always wanted to go this way," she breathed happily, before slipping out of the room behind Luna.

The five pushed through the crowds to get outside, luckily it wasn't as crowded since all but a few students had left already. The walk to the Shack overview clearing was silent. Once they got to the clearing, they stopped and waited.

"Why didn't you want to tell them about Honeydukes?" Hermione finally asked.

"The Shack has a higher probability of already being burned," Ron replied, eyes on the hills leading back to Hogsmeade. "Yeah, we all swore to protect secrets but still, we don't trust them yet and so no need to give them more information than needed."

"What do you mean, burned?" Ginny asked with a frown.

Ron sighed. "Burned, you know like the secrecy of it is gone."

"Why do you figure that?" Neville asked.

"Because of Wormtail." Hermione stared at Ron blankly and the other three were similar. "Ok, Wormtail worked with Him, so we can be pretty confident that the traitor told all of the secret passageways. It's a pretty safe bet. If that's the case then well, the snakes will learn it when they need to from Him. However, the Shack has a higher likelihood because that's when Wormtail escaped and went back to Him. You can bet that He searched the rats mind pretty thoroughly in regards to that night and so most definitely would have seen the Shack. I don't think Harry will tell Him anything until he admits that this alliance is permanent. So there is a about a ninety-five percent chance that He knows about the Shack and probably like an eighty percent chance of him knowing the other passages."

"Wow, Ron, that was…" Ginny trailed off. "Brilliant deductions."

"It's just strategy," he shrugged. "Know your enemy."

Hermione stared at Ron in astonishment and couldn't help but feel a flicker of pride and awe as she stared. She had always known he was smart, it was why it always frustrated her that he never cared to try, but now it seemed that he was starting to embrace his intelligence, at least in regards to strategy and she had the strangest urge to kiss him. The group fell into silence again and Ron wrapped his arm over her shoulder again and Hermione felt a warmth flicker in the pit of her stomach.

The silence didn't last long. Soon the Slytherins were breaching the hill. Well first it was Crabbe and Goyle before the two turned back to motion the rest to join. "So where is this passageway?" Malfoy asked when the group was together.

"Through the shack," Ron replied with a nod to the Shack. "Come on," he said before he and Hermione climbed the worn-down barrier fence. Ginny, Neville, and Luna were quick to follow.

"That's trespassing," Greengrass spluttered. Hermione and the others turned in surprise.

"Yeah, and?" Ginny asked, with a raised eyebrow. "You planning on reporting us?"

"It's empty inside, no one in there to trespass on," Ron agreed.

"How do you know?" Parkinson asked, shifting nervously.

"Because we've been inside," Hermione replied with a roll of her eyes. "It's not haunted either if that's what you're worried about."

"Look, you either come with us or go back on the main road. We'll meet you back at school," Neville huffed before turning to continue walking closer. Hermione, Ron, and Ginny turned to follow. And Luna skipped out beside them all.

Cursed mutters of 'Bloody Gryffindors' came from behind them but soon the Slytherins were catching up to them. "How do you know it's empty and not haunted?" Zabini asked curiously.

"Again, we've been inside. And the rumors of it being haunted were just rumors," Hermione replied.

"It's where Professor Lupin would hide during the full moon, that's where the howls came from," Ginny continued.

"How did you learn that?" Zabini asked, his attention on Ginny.

"Harry, Ron, and Hermione found it in their Third Year," she replied. "Had this whole confrontation between Professor Lupin, Sirius Black, and the traitor Wormtail. I think Snape showed up for a bit."

"Yeah, didn't stay conscious for long," Ron said with a snicker, Hermione lightly hit him but couldn't stop her giggles at the memory. In hindsight it was humorous how the three of them had all acted as one to knock out their professor, though in the moment she had been terrified.

"That's the night that Harry, Hermione, and Sirius suffered under the dementors and Harry had to fight off the whole hoard," Ginny continued.

"Isn't that the night you guys witnessed Professor Lupin change?" Neville asked, though he was mainly eyeing the stunned Slytherins with a smirk. Hermione knew immediately what he was doing. She knew there were hundreds of stories surrounding Harry and his numerous yearly adventures and that the snakes were curious. This casual referencing not only confirmed stories but it gained them respect, no matter how subconsciously.

She shivered at the memory. "Yeah, he hadn't been able to take the Wolfsbane Potion that night."

Hermione tried not to savor the looks of astonishment too much as they walked. Though the incredulity planted all across Malfoy's face was enjoyable. Soon they reached the Shack and crept inside. It was covered in dust, fur, and broken furniture; claw marks tore at the wooden walls and it smelled musty and old.

"Before we head down, I have a question," Neville said, turning to face the Slytherins who were all eyeing the dilapidated walls with concern. "Why did Harry's magic not affect you like it did us?"

Malfoy eyed Neville before speaking. "It's not the first time we've felt Potter's magic. We felt it a few times over the summer and so were prepared for how it felt and how to handle it."

"We're also more accustomed to the feeling of Dark magic, given our families and who they work for," Nott continued. "If you grew up with being surrounded by it, it wouldn't affect you as much either."

"It still affected you though," Ginny pointed out shrewdly.

Zabini nodded. "No matter how much we've interacted with Dark magic in the past, Potter's is still incredibly strong. Everyone gets affected by it."

 _Everyone gets affected by it,_ the words rang in Hermione's mind and she swallowed at the implications. Harry had mentioned he'd been presented to the Death Eaters, that he had attended meetings. That meant the Death Eaters had all felt Harry's magic, probably more than once. She wasn't sure how to feel about that.

"Right, let's keep going," Ron finally said, drawing attention back to the matter at hand and leading the group to the trapdoor in what Hermione assumed was supposed to be a living room equivalent. Opening the door, he paused before turning to Hermione with a childish grin that made her heart stop. "At least it's not a huge drop," he said chuckling and her lips twisted. "And I mean it's not Devils' Snare but do the tree roots still count?"

"And it's good we don't need to worry about keeping the music playing or Fluffy."

"More Gryffindor adventures?" Malfoy sighed, breaking up their moment. Hermione glared at him and Ron sneered.

"Let's just go," Ron huffed. "Hermione you first since you know the root that needs to be pressed to freeze the tree." Hermione nodded and went into the tunnel, followed quickly by Neville and Ginny. Ginny and Hermione lit their wands and soon Zabini was climbing down into the tunnel, followed by Davis and Luna before the rest of the Slytherins went down.

The trek back didn't seem as long this time as her memory claimed it to be and soon, Hermione was peeking her head out and pressing the knot in the root hard. She waited for the branches to freeze before scurrying out of the hole. She crept forward and kept an eye out for anyone on the grounds, while waving for the others to climb out quickly.

Luck was with them though, it seemed the rest of the castle was at dinner and so they met no curious or suspicious glances as to why the Gryffindors and Slytherins were willingly near each other.

"The Whomping Willow," Greengrass hissed, eyes wide.

"Yes, and if you don't move you will be hit by it. The freeze on it will only hold for a few minutes," Hermione snapped, pressing her foot to the knot once again when she saw one of the smaller branches starting to twitch.

Ron grabbed Hermione's hand and ran for the edge of the Willows reach just as the tree started waking up again. They reached the group huddled in the small shadows clinging to the outer wall alcoves. "So, should we meet up again?" Ginny asked hesitantly, eyeing the Slytherins.

"Suppose that is what Potter would want," Malfoy shrugged.

Hermione rolled her eyes. Dancing around the edge of things would get them nowhere. "Look, we'll probably be meeting in the Room of Requirement next weekend after dinner. If you want to join us, join us. Greengrass, at some point we are going to have to collaborate on protection enchantments."

Greengrass nodded. "Next weekend then. We will compare notes then."

Hermione nodded and after a quick glance at the other snakes, tugged Rons' sleeve and turned to leave. Neville and Ginny were quick to follow.

"I'm so glad we're all friends now," Luna commented airily before skipping to catch up with Hermione and the others.


	19. Found One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry chats with Marvolo and slowly starts to come to terms with his place in the coming war. Harry also meets his guard and the seven of them go out to Muggle London and Harry Claims his first Life for Death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything is J.K. Rowlings. I only claim the plot. Everything else is hers, all the characters and the magic, all of it. Please let me know what you think though, I encourage feedback of all kinds, just be nice about it!
> 
> Thank you guys for all of your reviews! Over 200, that is so crazy to me. But I really, really appreciate all the suggestions and the comments. 
> 
> Now, I have really mixed feelings about this chapter. I’ve attempted rewriting it multiple times but couldn’t feel satisfied. Also, I’m not from England, so I don’t really know how the pubs and clubs and drinking and stuff works. I know the age limit isn’t like in the States, so take all of that with a grain of salt, I drew on what I know and I assume it is similar. 
> 
> All of that said, I do hope you all enjoy this chapter. And keep the reviews coming! They really help with my motivation.

**Found One**

Stepping out of the Floo, Harry stumbled and clutched at the nearby couch he knew from experience was there. Actually, after the first two Floo trips into Marvolo’s office, Harry had moved the couch two feet over just to be appropriately placed next to the fireplace. Merlin, he hated Flooing. Grumbling to himself, he brushed the ash off of his new leather jacket and glared at the man smirking behind the ornate desk. 

“Not a word,” he growled. 

The smirk sharpened and only made Harry glare harder. “To comment on a peers misfortune only lowers yourself in the eyes of all.”

“You comment on the misfortune of your minions all the time,” Harry retorted. 

“Ah, but they are not my peers.” Harry swallowed hard and focused on righting his appearance until the heat in his cheeks dissipated. Marvolo let out a long drawn out sigh. “Though I really don’t understand why you have such difficulties with Flooing.”

Harry shrugged. “Who knows, maybe it all stems back to that fateful first attempt before my second year where I ended up in Knockturn Alley and now I have some horrible subconscious fear of it. Or it’s just a terrible form of travel and the sooner I learn to Apparate the better,” Harry quipped. “I’m leaning on the latter.”

“We can begin that course of study if you wish it.” Harry flashed a grin at the Dark Lord before flopping into the sofa that he had originally been leaning against for balance. It was Harry’s favorite seat in the office. “How was your meeting?” Marvolo asked, setting his quill aside, folding his fingers delicately on top of his desk and turning his full focus on Harry. 

“It went well. Getting my friends and the Slytherins to work together will be a long process, but we made progress today.”

“Any news from within the school?”

Harry nodded, his fingers tapping nonsensically against the couch arm. “Dumbledore is trying to get Neville in his grasps like Snape said. I told Neville to go for it and see what news the old man will give. It also seems like I have more support with the students than I originally thought.”

“Oh?” The perfectly sculpted eyebrow rose and Harry silently marveled at the perfection of the movement and how one gesture could make someone feel so inadequate and so compelled to justify themselves. 

“Yeah, apparently, I made an impression on people back when I was teaching the DA. Plus, I guess all of the negative press last year that proved me to be right is actually working in my favor.”

“We will need to work the trial of Moody and Shacklebolt to further that positive image,” Marvolo mused. “You have the Wizengamot this week, do you not?” Harry nodded though the question was more of a statement. A Wizengamot meeting wasn’t something Marvolo would forget. “Your relationship with Madame Bones is progressing?”

“Yeah, when I met with her earlier this week she sent me a list of ….muggles for tonight,” Harry said, bringing out a crumpled piece of parchment from his jacket pocket. He still wasn’t sure how to really label the list of people. Victims made bile rise in his throat, but people sounded too tame considering the crimes they had committed. 

The meeting with Madam Bones had been surreal but Harry was confident he had the woman in his confidence now. They had met for lunch in a small muggle cafe not far from the Ministry and Harry had spilled his edited version of events. He had admitted that he now lived in an old family manor, though he implied that it was one that he had inherited. When he mentioned his studies, he said it was mainly self-study, which his Necromancy was, and accepted her suggestions of literature for his N.E.W.T studies. She had offered tutor recommendations but he had side stepped those offers by claiming the need for safety and privacy.

The lunch had lasted almost two hours and had felt more like an interrogation then a shared meal but after confiding about his meeting with Death —after assuring that she had been sworn to secrecy— and his hesitancy about having to kill at all and then his solution to both seek justice and satisfy Death’s demands, Harry was confident he had won her sympathy. 

Madam Bones had agreed to search through the Muggle contacts that the DMLE maintained and only a few days later had provided him a list of ten muggle men and possible locations that Harry could start with. According to Madam Bones letter, these men on the list had all gotten off on child molestation or multiple rape charges through a bungling of the legal system.

“Your guard should be arriving shortly in the Gathering Room.” 

Harry nodded though his mind was still on his meeting with Madam Bones mixing with the comments from Pansy and Daphne earlier. “What is your opinion on women?”

“Excuse me!” Harry bit his lip to keep from laughing outright at the incredulous, gaping expression, and probably the most honest facial expression he had ever witnessed on the Dark Lord's face. “Why do you— what relevance is that?” 

Harry couldn’t stop snickering at the stumbled question, he always got a strange rush at getting Marvolo to break his perfect composure, but pushed on. “It’s just something Pansy and Daphne mentioned. About how Pureblood women are expected to be nothing but pretty broodmare trophy wives. At least that’s the gist I’ve gotten. I think it’s a pretty ridiculous and medieval attitude, but what is your stance on it? You know, for your world domination foundation or mantra or whatever it is that you envision.”

Marvolo blinked a few times and cleared his throat, looking down at the table top to unnecessarily adjust the papers on it into even neater piles. “Right, of course. You’ll find that I am in agreement with your assessment. I find that the progression of the fairer sex admirable and support it. The thought of suppressing potentially useful ideas is idiocy.”

“Then why do you suppress your minions' ideas?” Harry couldn’t help but cut in.

“Only if they suggest it in a way that makes them appear superior. I am their Lord, they must remember this at all times. I will not accept any less than utmost respect. If they have an idea then they must present it appropriately.”

Harry rolled his eyes, that was an issue to tackle at another time. “Whatever. So, you think women are great then what is up with the continued Pureblood archaic ideals? Why aren’t you addressing it?”

“You have witnessed my organization on a very limited scale. Don’t assume you know it,” Marvolo replied, leaning back in the desk chair looking both relaxed and regal. “Admittedly, I find the Pureblood women to be some of the more conniving and subtly ambitious of them all. However, it is my impression that they are accustomed to working in the shadows of their husbands, they are accustomed to not receiving the same freedoms and so don’t immediately leap at the opportunity. Bellatrix as an outlying example, women such as Narcissa Malfoy, Rosemary Parkinson, and Aurora Greengrass were raised to be in the shadows, as were their husbands raised to assume their wives would always be placed behind them. It is not simple to flip that ingrained thinking.”

Harry frowned, he supposed that made sense. He had only ever interacted with Narcissa during the few dinners she attended, but admittedly, he couldn’t picture her stepping up into the limelight and fighting and dueling and getting dirty. She was very much a Slytherin of subtle actions and manipulating conversation under the premise of a tea party. Those skills were important but probably not what Marvolo was wanting to focus on now in terms of recruitment.

“So how are you going to change it?”

Marvolo sighed. “Harry, as a leader, you must pick your battles. This is a battle that does not rank high in the grand scheme of things.”

“Yes it does.”

“No, it doesn’t. Purebloods have been living in this mindset for centuries, there are far greater issues that I need to address and rectify then the assumed future occupations of a small percentage of my followers.”

Harry frowned at that, feeling the first heats of anger starting to flicker in his gut. “It’s greater than that though! Even from a numbers game, you are missing out of potentially great followers. You’re losing an advantage.”

“It’s not a great enough loss to deal with the upheaval.” Marvolo seemed completely unconcerned about the topic now. If anything he looked bored but there was a strange calculating gleam in his eyes that disrupted the indifferent image.

“It is though!” Harry shouted, standing from the couch and stalking over to the desk. “I mean without Hermione, Ginny, or Luna, hell I’d be done for. Hermione especially. You’re saying that if you win, they would be worth nothing more than if they can reproduce? Even though you don’t agree with it? That’s bullshit! You either support it or you don’t.”

“Why must I be the one to change it then?” Marvolo countered, again looking completely unperturbed in the face of Harry’s rant. Eyeing Harry from his relaxed position in his chair while Harry leaned over the desk, hands splayed out on the polished wood.

“What?” The question threw a distraction in Harry’s anger and he could already feel it losing heat. 

“You are obviously more passionate about it than I am. Why don’t you change it?”

“But...but you’re the Dark Lord.” 

“So why must I be the one to change everything?” Harry shifted, opened his mouth and shut it again. “Already, you are starting the process.”

“How?”

“You have incorporated women into your personal guard. You don’t realize how large of a message that sends to my followers. Especially, since I’ve given my approval of your choices.”

“But, I’m not in charge. It should be you doing the changes. You’re the one who plans on ruling the world after all.”

“Just because I’m not the one doing the leg work doesn’t mean I’m not the one doing the changes. I already said that my approval of your guard choices is sending my unspoken agreement with your stance.”

Feeling strangely manipulated and not sure why, Harry shifted his feet. “Well, what about after you win?”

“What about it? Do you think I won’t have an ally beside me to continue those changes?” The glitter in those eyes made Harry’s gut twist and he looked away. “Oh, little lion, you are on the edge of your own leadership role. Deny it all you will but you are creating your own following and followers need ideals to support as well as a leader to champion those ideals.”

"You talk like I'm going to start and lead a whole new faction, you sure you want that competition?"

There was a strange light shining in Marvolo's red eyes. "I don't foresee there being a competition."

“You seem so certain this is happening but what following am I creating?” 

“Aside from the one you had just through being the young celebrity you are— you’re welcome for that by the way.” The sardonic drawl had Harry snorting in laughter before he could stop himself. Gruffly clearing his throat and folding his arms tightly to keep himself contained, he looked back at Marvolo. “You’re little friends for one, the children of my followers as well are the start of your fellowship.”

“The Slytherins don’t follow me, they follow you.”

Marvolo’s look could almost be fond, if it wasn’t so politely stoic, and Harry felt his cheeks grow hot. “Of course,” was all Marvolo ended up saying. There was a beat of silence before Marvolo continued, moving to sit straight backed in his chair and grabbing his quill. “We shall continue this later, your guard should have arrived by now,” Harry nodded and quickly went to the office door. “Just remember Harry, whether this alliance continues or not, you will not be allowed to fall into oblivion.” Harry paused with his hand on the doorknob and looked over his shoulder but Marvolo wasn’t looking at him, he was staring out the office window. “There will always be those who seek you and follow you. So, give them reasons to do so.”

Highly unsettled, Harry left the office and shut the door behind him. His feet lead him to the Gathering Room but he couldn’t focus. The whole conversation with Marvolo made him think of Blaises’ comment earlier about making an Inner Circle. Was that what was happening? No, he wasn’t like Marvolo or Dumbledore, he wasn’t a leader like that. He was just Harry. The thought sounded feeble and Harry swallowed hard at it. 

No, he wasn’t just Harry. Marvolo had been right months ago, he never had been just Harry and he never would be no matter how much he desired it. The acceptance of never being just Harry felt strange. It was something he had always hoped for but had realistically known it would never happen. So, what did he do now? He didn’t have an answer by the time he reached the doors to the Gathering Room. 

Standing before the doors, Harry took a few deep breaths and fidgeted with the cuffs of his jacket. He had gone out into the muggle world last week and seen the leather jacket and impulsively bought it, feeling the need to have Sirius close as he continued on his current path. Unable to put it off any longer, Harry pushed the Gathering Room double doors open and strode in.

His six chosen guards stood loosely together in the center of the room. As soon as Harry entered, all six of them turned and promptly bowed. Swallowing awkwardly, Harry flapped his hand a bit to get them to stop, these were his peers, he had gone to school with all of them, even if only for a few years. “None of that,” he choked out. Their bowing was hitting too close to Marvolo’s words. 

The six stood and Harry glanced over them. Marcus Flint hadn’t changed much from their years at Hogwarts, his teeth just as disfigured and his stature still hulking and Harry hadn’t completely dismissed his original thought of possible troll blood influence. Adrian Pucey could have been leaning against a wall in the middle of the room for how casually he stood after standing from the bow. Harry remembered locker room talk that Pucey had been considered the more handsome of Slytherin Quidditch players and Harry supposed he could see it: well-groomed hair, chiseled jaw and muscled chest. Harry also remembered that Pucey hadn’t committed any of the obvious fouls during games like the others did. Graham Montague stood at the far end of the group, he was the shortest of the guys and his eyes were a little too close together and his forearms were covered in hair, dark and curly like the knotted curls on top of his head. Cassius Warrington looked like a scarecrow compared to the rest but he still wasn’t as tall as Flint or Pucey, he had more of a lanky, wiry muscled build but Harry remembered him to be a fierce competitor from the Quidditch pitch. Finally, Harry looked at the two women he had chosen. The two were in the center of the group and while they both looked more delicate and soft, there was a hardness to their eyes that made Harry consider them to be the most dangerous. He wasn’t really sure which twin was which because he hadn’t interacted with them at all but one had slightly curlier hair and the other had painted her nails red. 

“Thanks for volunteering,” Harry began, trying to stop himself from shifting on his feet, he glanced over their attire and decided that they actually did pretty decently in dressing themselves for the night. The blokes all had nice collared shirts and while Pucey and Warrington wore dark jeans, Flint and Montague had khakis, whereas the twins both wore dresses that looked more appropriate for a church setting but it would work. Harry wasn’t sure if he was relieved or not that he couldn’t waste time to correct their attire. “So, what were you told about tonight?”

“You’re killing muggles, Lord Potter,” Flint grumbled. 

“Taking out child abusers, Sir,” Warrington added. 

Harry tilted his head in slight acknowledgment. “Right. So, Death deemed me ready to start practicing my craft a bit more. So, muggle child abusers and rapists seemed the best group to take out. So tonight, we will be going to downtown London. Madam Bones has provided me with a list of the accused. Here are their pictures,” Harry said, drawing forth the ten muggle photos from his jacket pocket and handing it to Warrington who was closest to him. The six leaned closer and Warrington passed the pictures around. “From my sources, a few of them should be hitting the clubs tonight and so should be easy to lure away. I’m not sure how long tonight will last, but we can get food if needed. Sound good?”

There were nods from all six, whether they actually thought it was good or were just nodding because they thought they had to Harry wasn’t sure. So Harry nodded nervously again for lack of anything better to do. “Before we go, who’s who?” Harry asked, nodding at the twins. 

They both smirked but then the curly haired one softened her smile and replied, “I’m Flora. She’s Hestia, Lord Potter,” Harry nodded. 

“Great. Thanks. Now, next, no Lord stuff. Potter is fine. Have any of you been to Muggle London?”

“Raids,” Montague shrugged. 

“Right,” Harry said. “We’ll just deal with things as they come, I guess. Dobby, Kreacher, Tobi, Mimsy.” 

The four house elves appeared at his side. “Master Death Master,” “Master Lord Black,” “Great Master Harry Potter!” 

Harry smiled at them. “You guys mind transporting us?”

“You're using house elves to travel?” Montague sneered, while the elves nodded eagerly at Harry. 

Harry glared at the man who flinched back slightly pale. “Well I can’t Apparate yet and it’s not like there are any fireplaces attached to the Floo Network in Muggle London and since my association is still under wraps it would be suspicious for us to all arrive in Diagon together. So, you got a better idea?”

Montague scowled looking away and so Harry looked back to the elves. “We need to get to Muggle London. An alleyway a few blocks from the Leaky should work.”

The elves nodded and Harry was surprised at the small scuffle between them over who would grab his outstretched hand but Dobby seemed to win out. Mimsy clutched the Carrow twins hands, the girls looking at the small elf curiously. Kreacher went to Flint and Pucey, while Tobi paired with Montague and Warrington. 

The seven of them were gone before Harry could say anything more and soon they were dropped in an alley that smelled strongly of trash and fish and his nose wrinkled at the onslaught. The others didn’t look pleased either, though it was dark and so in fairness he couldn’t really see much of any of their faces.

“Thanks, I’ll call you later tonight when we are done.” The elves bobbed their heads and Harry turned back to the former Slytherins, all of them had their wands out and Harry frowned. “We are in Muggle London, put the wands away.”

“We can’t go out amongst the savages without wands ready, Potter,” Pucey sneered, gripping his wand tighter, turning his nose up at the dirty alley.

Harry clenched his fist and his temper flared. “Oi, I’m in charge here. You lot might be here to guard me on Voldemort’s orders but you do as I say. And I say no wands. Not unless an actual threat is present. If you have a problem with it, you can Apparate and leave. I won’t even tell Voldemort. I didn’t want a guard to begin with.” Harry’s skin felt hot in the heat of his anger. A part of his mind said he was overreacting but he wasn’t going to deal with protests, Marvolo’s words echoed in his head as he watched the six former Slytherins exchange glances. The twins were the first to tuck their wands up their sleeves. 

Warrington put his wand away next but looked extremely bitter about it, saying, “It’s not safe to be without our wands, Potter.”

“What, do you think they are just going to attack you in the middle of the street?” Harry asked, anger fading to astonishment. “They,” he said thumbing over his shoulder behind him to the busy London street, “don’t care who you are and probably won’t give you an ounce of attention. And they aren’t savages,” he added with an added glare at Pucey. “We aren’t in danger, most of them are on their way home from work or out for dinner, they aren’t looking for trouble. Now, wands away,” he said through gritted teeth, his stare hard and unrelenting. 

Flint, Pucey, and Montague tucked their wands away after another moment's hesitation, satisfied Harry pulled out the list of names and addresses. “Right, now,” he said, trying to focus back on the task at hand: hunting down these names so that he could...kill them. “The first spot is actually about five blocks down. Let’s go.” Harry didn’t give the six time to say more before he spun smartly on his heel and strode out of the alleyway. He kept walking, not caring much if the Slytherins followed. Like he said, he hadn’t wanted a guard and he already felt testy over what he had to do today, he wasn’t in the mood for hand holding. 

It seemed the good mood he had from seeing his friends had fully disappeared in the wake of Marvolo’s conversation and now the closer it got to when he would practice his skill the more his previously ignored anxiety crept back in. 

Apparently he didn’t need to worry about whether his guard would leave him or not. Footsteps soon surrounded him and at a quick glance he saw himself surrounded. The twins were on either side of him, Pucey and Montague were in front of him and a quick glance showed Flint and Warrington behind him. 

The group was silent as they walked in the warm night air, the sound of bustling traffic and the mindless chatter from the crowds around them filled the silence. The light from the streetlights slowly flickering on and the many shops and restaurants providing enough light to move comfortably. Harry observed the tenseness in the group around him, how they eyed each person they passed suspiciously, each fingering their forearms where their wands were tucked. 

“Relax would you,” Harry finally sighed after watching this behavior for three blocks. “You can see that no one is going to attack.”

“Your safety was entrusted to us, Potter,” the twin to his right said, Hestia, he thought looking at her red nails. “We will take it seriously. Our Lord would be highly displeased if we failed.”

“Not my Lord,” Harry sighed under his breath before continuing. “Yeah, I get that. I’m not saying you shouldn’t be alert, just do’t be so dodgy about it. That’s the third person to cross to the other side of the street because you look like you’re the ones going to attack.”

“You can never be too alert around these animals,” Montague commented. 

“They aren’t animals!” Harry bit out harshly. 

“They are still muggles, barely human,” Pucey sneered, his head on a constant swivel waiting for an attack.

“Ok, another thing for this guard stuff,” Harry sighed, rubbing his forehead tiredly, his fingers brushing the infamous lightning scar feeling the tendrils stretching through his skin. “No more muggle insults. I get you don’t like them. I think it’s idiotic to hate something you know nothing about. So, keep your opinions to yourself on these outings. If you want, afterwards, we’ll have a nice big debate over the merits of muggles but not now.”

Silence fell again and they reached the first club, The Velvet Dancer, that Madam Bones list said some of the men visited. There was a long line outside the club and Harry sighed internally. The group stopped and stared across the street at the club, uncertain how to actually get the targets now. Tugging at his hair as he thought, he caught a glimpse of Flora pursing her lips as though wishing to say something. 

“Have something to say?” He asked with a sigh. Her eyes widened and she looked at him nervously. “It’s alright, if you have an idea I want to hear it.” 

“I was wondering as to your plan to lure the muggles away,” Flora admitted.

“Working on it,” he admitted.

“Well, wouldn’t it be better to actually go inside? We’d be able to find the muggles easier and drag them out,” she said, her eyes flicking up at him nervously. 

Harry was nodding though. “Yeah, that was what I was leaning towards myself actually. Mainly it’ll be just getting inside. I don’t fancy waiting in line and technically I’m too young to go inside.”

“Magic, Potter,” Flint said gruffly, shoulders hunched and hands shoved in pockets, glaring at every passerby.

Harry sighed, knowing that would be the suggestion and not able to really think of anything else. “Right, once we are in, spread out a bit to find these blokes. Don’t be so stiff and maybe enjoy yourself a bit? We need to blend in. But no drinking. Once you find one, bring them out back and find me.”

The six nodded, Harry noted the slight traces of fear in the eyes of the Slytherins at the thought of blending in at a muggle dance club and the idea was so amusing it relieved some of his anxiety. At least until he saw Pucey step into the darkness of the alley behind them and pull his wand to aim at the muggle bouncer across the street. 

Guilt and revulsion bubbled in his gut and Harry felt sick as his feet followed the others across the street. The bouncers eyes were glazed and he smiled dopely as he waved the group in, ignoring the outraged protests of those in line. 

Inside it was loud, despite it still being early in the night. Lights flickered, bodies crowded around, and the music blared. It was overwhelming for a moment and Harry took many shaky breaths. He’d never liked crowds. He glanced at the others who were looking terrified. 

The terrified faces kicked Harry back into gear. He was in charge here, this was his mission after all, he couldn’t leave them looking so vulnerable. So shaking off his guilt over how they got into the club, shaking off his own anxiety of crowded spaces and the reality of why they were there, he spun back to face the group with a cocky smirk on his lips. 

“Don’t tell me Slytherins don’t know how to party,” he taunted, walking backwards into the club and thankfully not running into anyone. Warrington and Montague rose to the challenge and smirked as well, before striding out into the crowd. Pucey eyed Harry again before giving a shallow nod and walking in the opposite direction. Flint was standing behind Hestia now, his hand on her shoulder and the twins exchanged looks before walking forward. 

“Keep going, Potter, we aren’t letting you out of our sight,” Flint growled once the three reached him. Harry shrugged and turned to lead the three to the center of the group.

His heart pounding hard in his chest at the unfamiliarity of the whole situation, he didn’t allow himself to appear affected. The others were putting their trust in him and he wouldn’t show his own fear. His skin felt hot and clammy though and his blood was pounding in his ears so loudly he almost couldn’t hear the music. A tipsy blonde woman crashed into him and soon he was spinning around in a terrible mockery of dancing but no one glanced at him twice, which meant he might actually be blending in. 

Unfortunately, the dark atmosphere and the flashing lights made it hard to see anyone let alone the muggles they were searching for. Harry worried that they might not find anyone tonight after two hours had dragged on. Though he supposed it wasn’t a total waste, the dancing was actually kind of fun. The anonymity of the dark club lended a more relaxed atmosphere, much better than the Yule Ball at least. Not that this was actually dancing. More like just pressing against people but still it helped distract him. 

He knew one of the guard always had him in their sights though, if he let loose his magic just a touch he could sense the presence of other magicals. It was like when he sensed Marvolo’s magic to find him. Plus, he had danced next to each of them throughout the night, so he knew they hadn’t left. 

But the increased time at the club was making him anxious. Were the muggles going to show up at all tonight? Was this just a waste of time? Did the Slytherins think less of him now for dragging them into this place only to return empty handed? Thoughts crowding over each other, Harry decided that if nothing occurred in the next thirty minutes he would gather the others and they’d try another place or maybe just call it all together? Would they spread stories of his incompetence as a leader to the other Death Eaters? Would he lose all credibility and indirectly make Marvolo lose standing in their eyes too? Harry knew that this mission benefited and affected Marvolo just as it did Harry after all. 

His thoughts were stopped though when a hand grabbed his arm, spinning him away from the redhead he’d been dancing with. Harry’s hand immediately went to his wand, his already loose hold on his magic slipping further and flaring before he saw Warrington and relaxed. 

“Found one,” Warrington said, leaning close to Harry’s ear so he didn’t shout over the music. Harry nodded, any enjoyment he’d received from the club immediately gone as he followed the lanky man through the crowd, gut clenched painfully tight over the reality of what he was about to do. Montague was leaning against the club's backdoor, glaring at anyone who came near. Pucey soon materialized at Harry’s left shoulder and Warrington opened the backdoor and Harry quickly stepped through. Flint and the twins were already outside, a well put together man sat dazedly on the ground at Flints’ feet, blood dripping from his nose. The girls had their wands out. 

Harry recognized the man, he’d gotten out of four rape charges through bibery. Seeing more people arriving, the man scrambled to his feet. 

“Thank goodness you are here. These people are insane. They just came at me!” The man cried out, looking at Montague, Pucey, and Warrington, obviously thinking they were club bouncers here to help him.

The man was attractive and probably late-twenties, with expensive clothes and a large forehead. As Harry stared at the man the group spread out, taking up positions of defense. Montague remained at the door, Harry saw a locking spell cast to make sure no one intruded. Pucey and Warrington took up stations near the back alleys opening, Harry saw them waving their wands so assumed they were putting protective spells on the alley opening. Flint stood beside Hestia on Harry’s left while Flora stood behind them. 

“How’d you find this one?” Harry asked, eyeing the man.

“Came onto Flora,” Hestia growled, her wand leveling out at the man's chest. 

Harry spun away from the muggle to face Flora who looked pale in the dim alley lighting. “You alright?” He asked quietly, stepping closer to her. She eyed him for a moment before tilting her chin up and nodding her head, bringing up her own wand. Harry returned the nod and turned back to the muggle who was quickly realizing that the newcomers were not there to help him. 

“Who are you? What’s going on? You want money? That it? Look, I wasn’t going to do anything to the girl.”

“Like you didn’t do anything to the other girls?” Harry asked icily. 

A sick smile flickered briefly before the man scoffed. “Nothing they weren’t asking for. Besides, I was never charged. Is that what this is? You some crusader?” The man crossed his arms arrogantly and sneered down at Harry, who was frustrated at being a few inches shorter. 

“You could say that,” Harry whispered softly. Crusader was an apt term he supposed. 

“You’re a bit young kid,” the man scoffed. “Just go home. Isn’t it past your bedtime?” Harry clenched his fist but refused to rise to the bait of this despicable person, especially not with the Slytherins avidly watching. “What are you going to do, kid? Gonna act all tough and try to threaten me?” The muggle sneered, he seemed to gain his arrogant confidence back the more he talked. “You can’t do anything to me. If you try, my lawyers will end you.”

Tired of this muggle continuing to talk and his nerves frantic, Harry decided to just get it over with. Taking a deep breath, Harry focused on the malicious sneer and the memory of Floras’ pale face and timid stature. He released his hold on his magic, glad he’d kept it so close to the surface all night so he didn’t have to wait long before the icy fire tingled his skin and he felt the heady separation cloud his mind. He sighed into the sensation, the bliss of his magic answering his call. Moments later, Harry saw the pulsing life of the muggle, in the corner of his eyes he could see the pulsing lights of his guard around him as well. The lights weren’t flickering like the tortured Death Eaters’ was and distantly Harry wondered why. 

Idly, Harry observed his actions as though he were a bystander. He watched himself lift his hand towards the muggle as though offering him a hand, gesturing him closer, offering him a place of welcome. “No, it is I who will end you,” Harry stated calmly, voice low and his eyes on the Life aura holding steady around the man. The muggle, eyes glazed and looking utterly relaxed, stepped forward willingly. Distantly Harry felt his heart racing in anticipation, his fingers itching to Claim the Life; giddy at the thought, eager to please Death with this act. The man's hand clutched onto his hand and Harry offered a dark smile. 

Moments later Harry felt a head rush as the man collapsed on the ground. It had never felt like this before. Harry panted lightly, weakly calling his magic back under the surface. Blood pounding in his ears, Harry couldn’t hear any other sounds, he was lost in a haze; his senses numbed and blocked out while he relished in the Claimed Life. Finally blinking rapidly, Harry shook himself and glanced around the alley. 

The seven of them now formed a strange circle. The muggle on the ground at Harry’s feet, Montague behind the muggle and directly in front of Harry. Warrington and Pucey were still standing towards the alley opening but now close enough to also form a barricade, blocking potential eyes from seeing the now dead body on the ground. Hestia stood at Harry’s left shoulder still, Flint next to her and near Montague, and Flora stood at Harry’s right, leaning slightly on Pucey’s arm. 

Harry grunted, struggling to form words. And the six stared at him, wands ready and prepared to attack and defend at a moment's notice. “You’re back then?” Warrington asked hesitantly. Harry nodded and swallowed, clenching and unclenching his fists for lack of anything else to do, his breath ragged. 

“Merlins sagging balls,” Montague swore, staring between Harry and the muggle. “Knew what you were and all but seeing it...bloody fucking-”

“Graham,” Pucey cut him off sharply. “Ladies are present.”

“No, that summed things up well,” Hestia said. “Bloody fucking Morgana’s tits that was incredible.” Flint snorted, and he and Hestia exchanged smirking looks. 

Harry huffed and tugged at his hair. “I killed someone, can we move on, please?”

Pucey then transfigured the muggle man's body into a large, lumpy, misshapen piece of wood.

 “Looks weird,” Flint grunted. 

“Well, animate to inanimate objects is difficult, particularly human transfigurations,” Pucey defended, chin held high.

“No, no, it’s good. Thanks,” Harry cut in eager to be away from the alley. He felt cold and empty, the alley was getting too small, too tight. He needed space, he needed fresh air. “Let’s go.” Barely keeping it together, Harry strode quickly to the alley entrance and took deep breaths once he reached the open street. The street wasn’t fully deserted, it was midnight on a Saturday but it was enough. The dirty, contaminated smell of the alley was gone and it helped clear his head. 

He had killed someone. Purposefully went out and killed someone. Sure he’d killed his Uncle, Hestia Jones, and Pettigrew, but those had all been spur of the moment. Pettigrew had been the most planned out and that had all happened within five minutes. Now, he had purposefully planned out a night and hunted for someone to kill. He had hunted, killed, and...Harry swallowed thickly. He had been acting under Death's orders and that man hadn’t deserved to live but...Merlin, he really was a killer now. There was no other way to say it. He, Harry Potter, was now a murderer. Just like Dumbledore claimed he was. 

“Now what?” Montague asked, the group was forming a circle around Harry once again.

“Anyone hungry?” He asked, he wasn’t sure if he could handle Claiming another muggle tonight. He felt dirty and still lightheaded and chilled.

“Yeah,” Flint replied and Warrington and Montague were nodding too. 

“Great, let’s go find a place to eat.”

“Are you sure it will be edible?” Pucey asked, though he seemed more genuinely concerned. 

Harry rolled his eyes, grasping onto the idea of finding food like the lifeline it was. “Yes, it will be edible. Come on.” He led the way down the street but he had no idea where he was going and so just kept walking, looking for any open restaurants. 

It was only another block before he saw a pub that was open and had outdoor seating. Not wanting to be in a cramped room, he moved to the outdoor table and Warrington helped him move two tables together. The six all looked hesitant and stood nervously around the table. “Merlin, you’ve all only just been in a club for hours now, it’s just a table. Sit down.” He told himself that they weren’t obeying his order when they all moved to claim a seat almost immediately after he spoke. “I’m going to order us drinks and food,” he said with a sigh, draping his leather jacket around the back of his chair and entering the pub. Thankfully it wasn’t crowded or too loud and he approached the bar easily. 

“Hello dearie,” the woman behind the bar said with a tired smile. Harry returned the smile easily and felt a presence beside him, a quick glance showed him it was Flint. “What can I get you?”

“Can you bring a couple plates of fish and chips and maybe some burgers and fries outside? My mates and I are just done at the club and no one can decide what they want to eat,” he gave a decrepitating chuckle which the woman responded to in kind. 

“Of course, I know how it is with you young’uns ,” she chortled, punching in the vague order into the computer screen behind the counter. “Any drinks?”

“A couple Guinesses?” He asked after pretending to consider it.

The woman nodded. “Of course, you lot have your IDs?”

Harry nodded and moved his hand to jean pockets, only to then make a show of patting the empty pockets and frowning. “Bloody hell,” he cursed softly. “Left it in my jacket outside. Give me a sec, I’ll go grab—” but the woman was waving her hand dismissively. 

“Just show me when I bring them out, dearie. You seem the honest sort.” 

Harry sent his most innocent and thankful grin, which had the woman chuckling some more. “Thank you, miss.”

“Miss? Oh, that’s a laugh, alright dearie, you go on outside, I’ll bring out your food and drinks shortly.”

“Thank you again,” Harry said, a pleasant smile still on his face as he turned to leave the pub once again, Flint on his heels. 

“Impressive, Potter,” Flint said when they were seated at the table. Harry sat at the head of the joined tables with Flint on his left and Warrington on his right. Flora sat between Warrington and Pucey and Hestia sat between Flint and Montague.

“What did he do?” Hestia asked leaning gently into Flints’ side. 

“Quite the charmer,” was all Flint said. 

“Charming muggles isn’t necessarily difficult,” Pucey replied. 

“Pucey,” Harry ground out. “Remember what I said, keep those opinions to yourself tonight. We can talk about it more later, just not tonight.” Pucey flushed and looked down at the dirty wire table that they all sat around. The others looked incredibly nervous too and Harry frowned at them for a moment, not liking the change of atmosphere before realizing the possible reason. “I’m not going to torture you for speaking out, if that’s what your worried about. I’m not Voldemort.”

The table winced and Harry rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I’m surprised you find it so surprising that I can be charming Flint. I’m sure I should be offended.”

“True, being the Golden Boy, I suppose being charming goes with the territory,” Warrington commented with a smirk. 

“You do seem to be doing well with Skeeter at any rate, better than in previous years,” Flora added. 

Harry sneered at the thought of Skeeter. “Woman’s atrocious but has her uses. In the past I didn’t get much chance in dealing with her. Now, I’m able to do so on my terms. It’s working much better.”

“Alright dearies,” the woman from the pub called out, opening the pub doors and carrying a tray of Guinnesses on it. “Your food’s almost ready too, so don’t fret. I know how hungry you can get after a night of dancing,” she chuckled to herself as she placed the tray on her hip and started passing the beer around. Harry slipped his wand into the palm of his hand. “Now, ID’s?” She asked pleasantly. 

“Right, of course,” Harry said cheerfully, the woman looked at him and he whispered the confundus charm. He had only just learned the charm last week, so was a little nervous about it working on top of his guilt of actually using it on a muggle at all. She blinked a few times before smiling to herself.

“Good, good,” the woman said, nodding blankly. “I’ll be right back with that food, dearies.” She bustled off and Harry tucked the wand back up his sleeve. 

The Slytherins stared at him as he grabbed his glass, he really needed the alcohol right now, he eyed them and shrugged. “What? Go on, drink. Wasn’t sure what you all liked but I figured you couldn’t go wrong with Guinness.” Harry of course wasn’t going to mention that he’d never actually had a Guinness before and his only knowledge of it was from listening to his Uncle talk about it, but he was in charge tonight and couldn’t show uncertainty. Luckily he didn’t actually mind the taste, which was good because he had taken a large mouthful for his first taste to keep up casual appearances. “It’s not poison.” Harry took a few more mouthfuls. His guilt was blending with his already dirty feeling and he just wanted to not think anymore tonight.

Slowly, they all tried a sip. Flora and Pucey wrinkled their noses but the rest seemed to tolerate it at least. “I’m surprised you’re letting us drink, Potter,” Montague said after a few minutes. 

“Why wouldn’t I? I mean, I think tonight was a success and I’m definitely needing something stiffer than juice. So why shouldn’t we all be able to relax?”

Harry couldn’t decipher the looks exchanged between the six but was saved from further words when the woman brought out the food. There were five plates of fish and chips and five with cheeseburgers and fries. Knowing his stomach was growling, Harry didn’t really worry about wasting the food. There was a disturbance in the pub so the woman didn’t stay to chat after delivering the food. 

“Is all muggle food so greasy?” Flora asked, eyeing the battered fish and the fried potatoes. 

“No, pub food is though. It’s good, try it,” Harry said, drawing a cheeseburger plate closer to himself and popping a few fries into his mouth. 

Apparently hungry stomachs overpowered muggle revulsion and soon the food was divided up and everyone was eating. The twins were sharing a plate of fish and chips across the table, but everyone else had a plate to themselves. 

“So, you guys catch the latest Quidditch match?” Harry asked after he finished his burger. At a loss for what to say and not wanting to sit in silence. Besides, he thought wryly, Quidditch is usually a good go to, especially since the table was populated by former players. While he still felt dirty, the guilt and the chill that had claimed him was warming and fading.

“The Magpies and Harpies one?” Montague asked. Harry nodded. “Yeah, I mean we have to keep an eye on the competition.”

“You still play?” Harry asked, surprised and a little embarrassed that he didn’t know the professions of those with him. 

“Flint and I are with the Falcons with Terrence Higgs, you remember him?” Montague asked. 

“Yeah, I remember. Good for you. I’ll be sure to keep an eye out on the Falcon schedule. Usually I root for Puddlemere because of Oliver, but now I’ll have a second team.”

Montague and Flint both looked surprised and then oddly pleased. Montague pulled a second plate towards him to hide the look while Flint tilted his head to exchange a look with Hestia. 

“What do the rest of you do?”

“Beast Division for the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures,” Warrington said, taking a swig of his Guinness. 

“Department of Magical Games and Sports,” Pucey said. The man might not have liked the Guinness, but he certainly wasn’t opposed to the fish and chips, Harry noted as he watched the man work through a second plate of the battered cod.

“Hestia, Flora?” Harry asked when the girls continued to nibble their shared plate of fries and fish. 

“We don’t work. Not proper,” Hestia replied, her eyes fixed on the plate in front of her. 

“Oh right, that bollocks,” Harry huffed. “Well, if you did work what would it be?”

The twins looked at him sharply and the other four men stared at him calculatingly. “So, it’s true then?” Flint asked. 

“Is what true?”

“You’re pushing women to work,” Pucey clarified. 

Harry fiddled with his empty pint glass and looked at the six faces staring at him, thinking over his next words. The night was warm, thankfully but it was nearing two in the morning now and it was starting to get chilly with the sweat from the club drying. They’d probably need to leave soon. 

“I’m in support of people achieving their ambitions and desires,” Harry began slowly. “Whatever those desires may be. I don’t see the sense in adhering to ancient traditions that are stifling and limiting to the people confined to them.”

“You’ll do well in the Wizengamot, Potter,” Warrington said with a smirk. “Don’t worry though we aren’t opposed like our parents are.” 

Harry smiled softly though his brow creased, so it was the older generation that would give him the most problems. It was what he expected, he supposed and Marvolo had said similar. 

“I’d gain my Potions Mastery and run my own apothecary,” Hestia said after a moment. “The one in Diagon is terrible but it’s the only option and so people deal with the shoddy products.”

“I’d do something with Herbology,” Flora added looking flushed. 

“Oh really? My mate, Neville, he’s really into Herbology too. Brought a mumbling mimble-thing, don’t remember but he brought it into the dorm last year, Seamus and Dean kept poking it and covering the room in stinksap.”

Flora burst into giggles bringing chuckles and smirks to the rest of the guys faces. “Why would they do that?” She asked.

Harry chuckled and shrugged. “Because it was Seamus and Dean, they kept daring the other.”

“Gryffindors,” Warrington scoffed. 

“We do like a challenge,” Harry admitted with a smirk. “Now, I figured dueling would be what you would pursue.”

“Why?” Hestia asked with a frown.

“Well, when I mentioned you two were in my guard, that was what everyone said. You two were great duelists.”

“We are great, but that doesn’t mean we want to do it for a living,” Hestia countered.

“That’s fair,” Harry conceded, popping another fry into his mouth. 

“Is it true that the Dark Lord is training you?” Pucey asked, shifting in his seat. Harry nodded. Merlin, the gossips Marvolo employed, he snickered to himself. 

“And you were training students?” Montague pressed. 

Again Harry nodded. “Yeah, last year I led a defense club and then this summer I was training some of the other Slytherins, the ones from my year.”

“Want to duel?” Flint asked. “Later, I mean.”

“Yeah, test out your skills,” Warrington grinned. 

“Sure, I suppose that makes sense. I should know how good you are since you are supposed to be my guard. Should have done this before actually,” Harry admitted but the thought of dueling was exciting. The dummies were great but actually fighting against people would be even better. “But later, let’s call it a night for now,” Harry said, standing with a stretch. 

The rest were on their feet immediately and Harry fought back the wince at the sight. Shrugging back into his leather jacket he tossed some bills on the table for the waitress. They walked a few blocks before ducking into a dark alley, thankfully cleaner than the other alleys they’d been in that night. “Do you guys need an elf to take you home?” The group shook their heads no. “Alright. Well, swing by whenever you want to duel next. I’ll send you a notice next time I head out for hunting. Dobby.” The eager elf was by his side in an instant. “Good night everyone, thanks again for your help.”

The six bowed and after a few goodbyes, they all disappeared with six cracks. 

“Hey Dobby,” Harry sighed. “Mind taking me to my room? It’s been a long day and I need sleep.”

“Of course Great Master Harry Potter.”


End file.
